


The Start of Something New

by TooOceanBlue



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Pre-Relationship, Resbang 2018, Resonance Bang 2018, high school musical au but not exactly, most of the characters are active in this but they're not the MAIN main characters so I won't tag, they were supposed to get to smooching in this but I'm bad at romantic development
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-07 14:42:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17367800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TooOceanBlue/pseuds/TooOceanBlue
Summary: Sometimes you need to make sacrifices to get what you want. In Soul’s case, this means playing piano for the spring musical if his parents let him attend public school for his last year and a half of education. When stressful circumstances (and okay, a little bit of spite) rope teacher’s favorite Maka Albarn into stage crew, she and Soul must help each other balance extracurriculars and academics while their friendship steadily grows. High School Musical AU.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Resbang everyone! Before you read this I want you to make sure you’ve seen nyxique’s amazing art on tumblr [here](http://nyxique.tumblr.com/post/181886644587/ive-officially-completed-my-first-ever-resbang)  
> I also want to thank her for being so patient with me throughout this whole ordeal. I got very busy over the winter and haven't been able to dedicate as much time to resbang as I have in the past, so I also want to apologize if this is a bit of a mess. Anyway I hope you enjoy!

The ball wouldn't be dropping for nearly an hour, but Maka was already ready to head home. She had to finish her winter break reading anyway, and had foolishly left her book at the hotel. She was at the ski lodge now, stuck watching her father flirt with random women as she stood bored in a corner drinking sparkling grape juice from a plastic cup. She should have just stayed home like Blackstar had suggested, instead of going on this ski vacation with her father, but the adventurous part of her couldn’t turn down the chance to travel someplace and try something new. And of course that had worked out fantastically for her. Maka had spent a majority of her winter break holed up reading anyway, after discovering she was terrible at skiing.

Maka sighed and checked her phone. Hardly five minutes had passed, and from the looks of it, her father wouldn’t be taking her back to the hotel room until well after midnight. Maka gritted her teeth and tossed her empty cup into a nearby trash can. At least sharing a room as they were, her father wouldn't be able to bring back some random harlot.  _ Better luck next time _ , she thought, watching a less-than-middle-age woman run a manicured hand down her father’s tie. Ugh. She couldn’t stand to watch this.

Maka checked her phone again and turned to find some hallway to wander off into. Tsubaki had been texting her earlier, bless her, but the messages had trailed off as the night wore on, her friend undoubtedly becoming distracted with whatever extravagant performance Blackstar had come up with to celebrate New Year’s. If only Maka could be there as well. She would take Blackstar’s arrogant screaming over her father’s antics any day. Honestly, this New Year’s might even end up worse than the first year without her mom.

The hallways of the lodge were empty, thankfully. Everyone was gathering in the main rooms for the final hour of the year. The walls were covered in soft reds and golds. Really, the whole place was decorated in a way that suggested the resort was less for people who actually skied and more for people like her, who just got dragged there on vacation. Not that she was complaining. She appreciated the decorating, not that she had a particularly keen eye. It was better to focus on than the ticking clock, the shallow sound of partygoers through various doors. Maka figured she might head out to a balcony if she could find one. It was probably a bit cold, but, ever-prepared, Maka had made sure to bring as extra sweater with her before she had left the hotel room that evening.

_ Remembered a sweater but not her book.  _ In Maka’s defense, she really had expected something more entertaining from a New Year’s party. She supposed her friends had spoiled her.

As Maka wandered farther through the halls, she began to hear a different sound beneath the muffled din of celebration. A piano, definitely not from a speaker. The music was unmistakingly somber, heavy and jarring, like someone calling out with their final breath. It shook Maka in a way she was unaccustomed to music doing. Or maybe it was just the atmosphere of wandering through empty hallways with all other people locked away behind closed doors. Maka followed the sound. It did not come from behind a closed door, as she might expect from a private performance, or even from another lonesome party-abandoner, but instead from one cracked slightly open, revealing a room just a bit darker than the fluorescent hallways. As Maka peeked in, she saw what she would describe as perhaps a less extravagant lounge, probably usually reserved for smaller parties. Now however, it was only occupied by a single man, hunched over the piano. Whether his posture was due to age or passion, she couldn't tell, but he was undoubtedly engrossed with the his playing. Just as Maka was. She stood still in the doorway, but felt the sway of the performance nonetheless. The music rose, sharper, more desperate, like a man who had promised to die with dignity suddenly deciding that clawing to life was more important. It frightened her, froze her, but enraptured her all the same. Music had never trapped her like this, like she was drowning, like she was living. For the first time in her life she understood why some may even be moved to tears. It was like a story without a plot. Like a song. 

The music rose, like a crashing sea, fiercer and fiercer, then was crushed to its end with a final cry of the keys. If the man had died in his struggle or endured she could not tell, but she found herself sharing her thoughts out loud. “That was really beautiful.”

The man at the keyboard jumped suddenly, and turned to face her in the doorway with startled eyes. He was much younger than Maka had initially thought. He couldn't have been older than her

“How...how long have you been standing there?” He asked slowly.

It finally occurred to Maka that listening in on someone playing an instrument alone might be a little rude. She had the common decency to look sheepish. “Sorry. I was only here a few minutes. I didn’t mean to listen in, I just heard you playing from the hallway and followed the sound. Sorry to intrude. It was really good though.”

“You thought it was good?” Maka figured the boy’s dry tone of voice invited a conversation as much as anything else would, and she let herself into the room. 

“Yeah actually. I’m not sure I got it, but it hit me more than music usually does. Why? Was that not what you were going for?”

“Uh, no.” The boy rubbed the back of his head. “But that’s good, I guess. I’m just not used to people liking my music. At least not that kind.” He paused. “It’s sort of creepy, right?”

Maka shrugged. She lived in a place called  _ Death City,  _ creepy didn’t usually throw her off. “Yeah, but I still like it.” She stepped forward so that she was within introduction distance of the boy, who still sat at the piano bench. She held out her hand. “I’m Maka. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Soul.” He shook her hand stiffly, like a part in a play he’d practiced dozens of times but didn’t care much about. She wondered which of his family members had dragged him to a New Year’s party at a ski lodge. 

“Sooo, what are you doing here?” Maka leaned against the side of the piano. “At the party, I mean. And hiding out in this room.”

Soul closed the lid of the piano and turned to face her. “My family likes to attend social gatherings. We normally have parties at my house but my mom didn’t want to plan one herself this year. I’m in here cause I don’t like parties.”

“Oh.” Maka leaned back on her heels a bit. “I do. I just didn’t wanna hang out with my dad. Normally my friends and I do something for new years, but I’m here on vacation this year, so I couldn’t be with them.”

“Oh.” Soul scratched his chin uncomfortably. “Sorry.”

“It’s no problem. I like trying new things, so I’m glad I went on this vacation, even if it was just to find out I couldn’t ski.”

Soul snorted. “You can’t ski? It’s easy. You should try snowboarding”

Maka bristled. “Um, I will not try snowboarding, thank you very much. I fell on my butt enough with control of both my legs. And maybe it's easy for you, Mr. Snowhead, but I’m from the desert. We don’t exactly have skiing conditions.”

Soul raised his hands in almost-mock surrender. “Dude, calm down, I was just saying.”

“Well, say something else!” 

He rolled his eyes. “Like what?”

“I don’t know, something nice.” Maka stuck up her nose as Soul continued to give her an expectant look. “You know, you remind me of my friend Blackstar.”

“Why do I feel like that’s an insult?”

Maka let a smile through. “Probably cause it is.”

Soul stared at her for a moment. “You’re crazy.”

“And you’re uncool! Who doesn’t like parties?”

“You ditched too!”

“Yeah, cause I don’t like _ this _ party, but…” Maka got distracted as her phone buzzed. “Oh. It’s 11:59.” She looked up at Soul expectantly. “Do you wanna watch the ball drop?”

“Naw, I’m good here.”

“Hm. Weirdo. We can just count then. Maka watched the timer on her screen. “Forty seconds til midnight...thirty…”

“Are you seriously gonna count?” Soul asked.

“Yes, I am. Twenty. Count with me, fifteen…”

To Maka’s confidence, he joined in at eleven, though not without a sigh of resignation.

“Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.” Maka turned to Soul, smiling. “Happy New Year.”

He grinned back in spite of himself. “Happy New Year.”

Maka’s phone exploded with texts from her friends. Tsubaki sent a picture of the whole gang, Blackstar standing on a table with poppers in his hands, and kazoos sticking out of his nose. Maka held her phone out to Soul. “That’s Blackstar by the way.” She said, pointing to the blue-haired creten.

“I...cannot believe you just compared me to him.”

“It’s just cause you made fun of me for not being able to ski. That’s a very Blackstar thing.”

“Unbelievable.”

They carried on like that for the very first minutes of the new year. Maka was surprisingly easy to talk to. Her opinion of his music swirled in the back of his head as they talked. She seemed normal. He couldn’t comprehend why she would like something that had been described by his tutors as sounding like ‘an angry child slamming on a keyboard.’ It had been nearly forty minutes before Soul realized any time had passed at all, and his brother stuck his head through the cracked door. Had he left it open himself earlier, or had Maka?

“Soul, there you are. Mom and Dad wanna head back to the condo.” He glanced at Maka in surprize. “Oh. You made a friend.”

Maka smiled like a proper human being, and Wes smiled back at her as he took a step into the room. “I’m Wes, Soul’s brother. It’s nice to meet you, but I am afraid we do have to be headed out as soon as possible.” He offered his hand nonetheless, Maka shook it politely, sure to make eye contact.

“Maka. It’s nice to meet you. I’ll get out of your hair, then.” She rolled her eyes. “My dad’s probably throwing a fit looking for me anyway.”

Wes’s smile tightened. “Ah. That... wouldn’t be a rather tall red-haired man would it? I believe he realized your absence just a few minutes ago. He seems very concerned.” A resounding crash sounded from another room. “Actually, I’d suggest you two say your goodbyes as quickly as possible.”

Maka groaned. “Yeah.”

Wes slid out of the room then,  _ finally,  _ and Maka turned back towards Soul. “I guess it’s time to go then. It was really nice talking to you, Soul.”

“You too.” Maka started towards the door, but Soul thought better of his coarseness for just a moment. “Wait. Um.” Damnit, why did he say anything? “This might be weird, but could I...have your number? Just if you wanna talk or something.” He finished lamely. He didn’t know why he even cared. Just because he met someone at a party that he actually  _ liked. _

Maka though, just smiled brightly. With a quick ‘of course!’ she swapped her phone for his as they traded numbers. Maka took a quick contact picture of herself and handed his phone back. Soul left his contact photo blank.

“No last name?” Maka asked.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Alright then. All the more difficult to find you on facebook, but I’m not one to back down from a challenge.”

“No one uses facebook.”

“I do. And I’m sure you have an account you haven’t touched since you were thirteen that I can find.” Maka smiled at him again, and nodded. “It was nice to meet you Soul. Have a nice New Years!”

“You too.” With his answer, she skipped out of the room, leaving the door fully open behind her. He wondered if the wailing from somewhere in the lodge was her father. 

If he stood and wondered too long though, his parents might get impatient. If Wes had come to fetch him, it meant that his older brother had already exhausted their parents with excuses for staying any longer, and they were ready to head home.

Home. Home for a new year and new school. Soul tucked his phone into his back pocket and left the room, turning off the lights behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I warn you all that I went to a very small school. Like, originally 25 people in our graduating class before we had to merge with another one (then over 100, woo boy!). So the details surrounding the “High School” aspect of this au may be a little off. Please suspend your disbelief accordingly.

Soul kept a critical gaze on the barely familiar hallways of Death Academy. Wes had been with him yesterday to pick up the essentials- locker number, class schedule, and a less-than-informative tour given by an overly-chipper guidance officer. He felt appropriately unprepared now, weaving through the halls in his quest to find room 214. At least he didn’t need a map. Or at least he wasn’t about to break it out just yet. The numbers above the rooms had been enough so far, and he’d at least managed to find his locker. Now that he wasn’t lugging around the ten pounds of school supplies his brother had insisted he buy, he was pretty sure he could find his homeroom before first bell.

Soul did his best not to draw attention to himself. There were a few lingering stares at the new face, but they didn’t seem to care enough to stop walking and talk to him. So far so good.

He made it to homeroom with time to spare. Soul didn’t want to think too hard about whether or not it made him look like a nerd, but at least he was able to snatch a seat in the far back corner next to what Soul was pretty sure was a supply closet. Sitting in a mostly-empty classroom watching other students file in put him on edge. His thoughts jumped to blaming his parents for putting him through this before remembering that he was the one who had requested to attend public school. Damnit.

Soul glanced at his phone under his desk. Just a minute to spare. Maybe if he kept his head down no one would say anything about him being new. Unlikely, with his hair looking more like he belonged in a retirement home, but he could hope.

The homeroom teacher was a chipper blonde woman with an eye patch named Miss Marie. Soul didn’t question it too much, despite the strange insignia on it. Everyone had their quirks he guessed, even teachers. His tutors certainly had. 

The content of the woman’s whiteboard implied she taught English. She seemed frighteningly like the type who would make him stand up and introduce himself, but other than calling his name out for attendance, she drew no attention to him. He thanked his lucky stars that every teen movie he’d seen had been wrong about that particular detail. Miss Marie welcomed back the class from winter break and encouraged them to spend their precious minutes in homeroom finishing up the assignments they’d forgone over break.

“Though it goes without saying that I hope most of you have completed your projects when you were supposed to.” She added sternly. “You won’t have a homeroom in college, you know.”

The empty minutes put Soul even more on edge. He didn’t have any assignments, or studying or...anything. He was starting with a clean slate, most of the credits he strictly needed already having been earned through his homeschooling. Taking a final glance around, Soul opened the music app on his phone and pushed his earbuds in under his hair, the only thing he could think of to get this period over with. Hopefully Miss Marie wasn’t stricter than she looked.

When the other students rose abruptly, stacking up their books and pens to leave the room, Soul decided that the bell had rang. Three minutes till...biology. Fantastic. Soul pulled out his earbuds with a sigh, and began to shuffle out of the classroom, before- “Soul!”  
The voice startled him, drew his gaze closer to his left than he would have thought, where he caught sight of a rather familiar pair of pigtails. “Maka?”

“I thought it was you! Why didn’t you tell me you were starting here?”

Soul found himself at a standstill, despite the fact that Maka wasn’t physically blocking his way. “Uh...cause I didn’t know this was your school. Obviously. You didn’t mention it.”

“Oh. Right. Well it’s a nice surprise!” She glanced at her watch-  _ a watch who still owns a watch?  _ “I gotta get to class right now, but we definitely have to meet up somewhere. What period do you have lunch?’

Soul was embarrassed that he had to check his schedule. He was even more embarrassed that he bothered to. “Uh, fifth.”

Maka smiled excitedly. “Great! Me too.” she turned out the door, waving back at him. “See you then, Soul! Or maybe before!”

Soul stood still for a moment, trying to piece together what he could, before another voice interrupted him.

“Do you know Maka?” It was Miss Marie. Her face was open and kind, head cocked to the side in a way that reminded him of a labrador.

“Uh-”

“Oh- I wasn’t thinking, you need to get to class, don’t you? You can find your way, Soul? I could write you a pass.”

“I’m good.”

“Alright. I hope you have a nice first day, then. And feel free to come to me if you need help adjusting!”

Soul repressed a cringe and instead offered her a pained half-smile. He definitely was not going to talk to a teacher if he ‘needed help adjusting’. He wouldn’t talk to _ anyone _ if he could help it. He almost felt bad about walking out of the classroom with hardly a word, but he had to get to class. He didn’t want to think about the stares he’d receive if he walked in late.

Soul made it to class before the bell, hesitating to step up to the teacher’s desk to ask where the hell he was supposed to sit. The room was punctuated with tables of two, presumably lab partners. He didn’t exactly want to ask down the line. Then again, the teacher wasn’t exactly approachable either.

Professor Stein was a tall man, obvious even from where he sat hunched over at his desk. His thick glasses reflected in a way Soul hadn’t thought possible in real life, and his face was littered with honest-to-god scars. He looked like a failed science experiment. Or maybe a very successful one. He looked like a dead man brought back to life. 

“Uh, Mr. Stein?”

“Professor.” The man spun around to face him. “Mr. Evans?”

“Y-yes.”

A long arm stretched towards the the front right corner of the classroom. “You’re seat is there. Your lab partner will be Maka Albarn.”

Soul started at the name, then followed the man’s gesture to the empty seat. “Thanks…” Guess she’s late. Somehow.

Professor Stein picked up a thick volume from his desk. “Textbook.”

“Uh thanks” He dropped it into Soul’s hands. It was ridiculously heavy. Heavier than it should have them, considering Professor Stein had picked it up with ease, as if handing him a sheet of paper.

Soul carried the book over to the table, sitting closer to the wall. No sooner than he sat down the bell rang, and Maka came rushing into the room, slamming a slip of paper on the the Professor’s desk.

“You’re late.”

“Sorry. I was helping Miss Azusa with something.”

Professor Stein picked up the sheet of paper, examining it closely. “I see. Take your seat. You have a new lab partner.”

Maka finally looked away from the teacher, locking eyes with Soul. She smiled, pleasantly surprised, and took her seat.

“Hi.” she whispered, eyes bright.

“Hey.”

“Everyone settle down.” Professor Stein rolled his chair in to the front of the room, pulling down a projector screen. “We’re starting a new unit. Begin reading chapter 17 of your textbooks tonight. For now, follow the notes.” Maka pulled out a green notebook from her bag, followed by  _ three  _ highlighters.

“Jumping right in huh.” Soul mumbled. 

Maka gave him an apologetic look. “Yeah. Stein’s not exactly easy. Sorry he’s you’re first class.”

Soul shrugged, looking forward to the projector screen. Stein’s voice droned on. Something about the chemical composition of viruses. As the lesson continued on, Stein mouth slowly cracked into a grin. It was so subtle at first that Soul didn’t notice until he was baring his teeth. He leaned over to Maka. 

“What the fuck’s with that?”

Maka shot up from her notetaking as if startled, followed Soul’s gaze, then looked at him. “What’s what?”

“His- his smile. It’s creepy, right?”

“Oh, he’s just like that,” Maka whispered. “It’s harmless. Usually.”

“ _ Usually?” _

_ “Pay attention.” _

Soul spent the rest of the class even more on edge than that morning. That wasn’t normal, right? Their teacher smiling like a maniac and looking like the med-school practice dummy for stitches wasn’t normal. 

Less than a minute from the end of class, Stein turned off the projector. “Any questions?”

No one raised their hand, a few bored ‘no’s echoing through the room. 

“Alright, start your reading. Or talk. I don’t care.” The man spun around in his chair, rolling back behind his desk. Or that appeared to be his destination, because he fell backwards as he rounded its front corner. Soul jumped at the crash, waiting for some other reaction. No one seemed to be paying it any mind.

Soul looked at Maka, gesturing towards their fallen teacher. What was he supposed to say?

“He’s just like that Soul, I promise you’ll get used to it.”

Soul groaned. “Please tell me he’s the weirdest teacher here.”

“He’s- well I guess it depends.”

“On _ what? _ ”

“It’s nothing Soul. Really.” Maka packed up her highlighters as she spoke.

“This school is named  _ Death Academy.  _ What was I  _ thinking? _ ”

Maka put an hand on his shoulder. “It’s seriously fine Soul. No one’s going to murder you. Every school has a few weird teachers. Didn’t yours?”

“I was homeschooled.” Soul grumbled.

The bell rang over his words, the tail end of them being drowned by the sound of two-dozen chairs scraping against the floor as the students made their leave.

“Remember to read chapter 17 tonight.” Stein said over the sound.

“What’s your next class?” Maka asked. “Maybe we’re on the same schedule.”

Soul glanced at his paper. “Uhh. English three.”

“Oh. I have econ.”

“I’ll see you then, I guess.” Soul said.

“Yeah, I’ll see you at lunch.”

They parted ways at the door, Soul turning right to make his way back to Miss Marie’s room, now with a heavy textbook in hand. He didn’t really have time to stop at his locker.

The rest of the morning was generally uneventful. Despite his anxieties, none of the teachers were as weird as Stein, leaving only the trepidation of his 6th period extracurricular over his head. That and 5th period lunch.

The cafeteria food didn’t look quite as bad as cartoons lead him to believe. Pizza was always a viable option, even if it was layered in grease, and fruit cups were usually safe too. Holding his tray in one hand, Soul scanned the room. It wasn’t that he was eager to find Maka, but he definitely didn’t want to look like some loser sitting by himself. Or even worse, take a seat that was already claimed. But standing right outside the lunch line like an idiot wasn’t a great option either. Damnit. 

A tap on his shoulder broke him out of his internal debate.

“Soul!!” Maka greeted as she passed him “Come on, we’re over here.” 

“Hey Maka.” Soul followed the tiny blonde towards a round table near the middle of the cafeteria. Two people were already seated there.

“Soul, this is Tsubaki,” Maka gestured to the taller of the two, who offered him a smile and a wave. “And Liz” she pointed to the other, a girl with tired blue eyes who answered with a mumbled ‘hey.’ “Tsubaki, Liz, this is Soul, he’s a new student. I met him over new years.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Soul.” Tsubaki said. “I hope you’re not having too much trouble adjusting. I know it can be a little unconventional sometimes, but it really is a good school.”

“Yeah,” Liz joined in as they sat. “You were homeschooled before, right?”

Before Soul could question how she would know that, someone crashed into him from behind, his vision obscured with the kind of forearms that could only belong to a jock. Or a gorilla.

“Yo Maka! Who’s the new kid!” The body behind him shouted to his right.

Maka reached over, hitting his attacker. “Blackstar, get off him!”

“ _ That’s _ Blackstar?” Soul sputtered. His surprize at the name  _ almost  _ surpassed that he felt at being damn-near assaulted in the middle of a lunchroom, even as the oaf released him. Soul’s look snapped over to Maka “You compared me to  _ him?” _

Maka chewed her lip.  _ “ _ It might have been a miscalculation.”

“ _ Might have?” _

“Woah now, Maka, what made you think you could compare this commoner to your god?” Blackstar yelled.  _ No one in the room was paying him any mind, were they all deaf? _

_ “ _ What the hell is wrong with him?” Soul didn’t even bother to whisper.

“He’s just a little eager.” Tsubaki said, urging Blackstar to sit down, a request that he begrudgingly complied with.

“About what?” Soul asked.

“Everything” Liz answered. Her eyes caught a motion behind them, and her lips curled into a smile. “And here comes his occasional partner in crime.”

Soul turned just as another pair reached the table. One seemed decidedly younger than the rest of the group, with a yellow bob and sparkling eyes that indicated she hadn’t yet succumbed to any teen angst. A step behind her was a boy with impeccable posture, whose under-eye shadows seemed to make up plenty for the ones the girl lacked.

Liz presented the two with a perfectly manicured hand. “Soul, this is my sister Patty, and Kid.”

“Oh! You’re that guy!” Patty exclaimed, using the back on his chair as leverage as she bounced into the seat next to Liz, smiling brightly. “You look like Christmas”

“Uh,” Soul said. “Thanks. I think.”

The other boy cleared his throat, offering Soul his right hand. “Soul. It’s nice to finally meet you in person.”

Soul hesitated, unsure, then shook Kid’s hand once.“Thanks. Uh, you too?”  _ Why was everyone in this school so weird? _

The boy nodded in response and took the remaining seat. between Maka and Liz. He stared at Soul for a second longer before looking away.

“Okay so everyone’s introduced,” Maka began,  “Good. Soul, how was the rest of your morning?”

“Uh,”

“You’re not very eloquent, are you?” Patty asked though a mouthful of chicken nuggets.

“I’m not trying particularly hard.” Soul said flatly. “And classes were fine. No one was as weird as Stein at least. Until now.”

Liz smiled. “You’ll get used to it.”

The conversation delved into winter break then, to the party that Maka had missed and the lacrosse practices that would begin next week. Maka and Blackstar were apparently on the co-ed team together, both stars in their own right. Tsubaki made a commendable effort to include Soul, though he had to admit he wasn’t making it particularly easy. He was fine with picking at his lunch and measuring the minutes towards 6th period. These weren’t his friends, at least not yet, and he saw no reason for him to get too involved.

_ ‘It’s important to make friends!’  _ Wes’ cheerful voice echoed through his head, even over Blackstar’s shouting. Soul was pretty sure that he and Patty were about to break into a wrestling match in the middle of the cafeteria. Yeah, maybe tomorrow.

Soul shuffled off when the bell rang, waving goodbye in response to several ‘see you later’s and ‘it was nice to meet you’s. At least he had somewhere to eat lunch.

It didn’t take him long to find the auditorium. Death Academy only had one building, and Soul only had to follow the increasingly frequent ‘auditions this friday’ posters to the black double-doors. He was even able to find an inconspicuous wall to stand against near the back row before the bell rang.

A handful of people already littered the stage, though they seemed busy working on set pieces as opposed to practicing lines. Others inconsistently populated the first few rows, talking animatedly among themselves. Theater kids.

A minute after the bell rang, a familiar woman rushed through the doors, arms full of clipboards, stray papers, and what Soul assumed were scriptbooks. “I’m sorry I’m late everyone!” Miss Marie exclaimed. “I got caught up in the science department, you know how they can be.” She set her things down in the front row seat closest to the aisle before clapping her hands together with finality. “I trust everyone had a good break? I'd like to personally thank those of you who dropped by to help me with some set-up. An especially gracious thanks to Kid and the Thompson sisters, who spent almost every weekend up here helping me prepare things, your help is very much appreciated.”

Marie’s announcement prompted Soul to more carefully scan the room. Sure enough, Kid sitting primly in the aisle seat across from Marie. Patty sat next to him, waving excitedly. Were she and her sister the Thompsons? He didn’t see Liz anywhere.

“I’d also like to announce that we’ve found a student pianist for the spring musical!” Her head swiveled left and right as the scanned the room, presumably for him, to no avail.  _ Thank you back row.  _ “I can’t seem to find him at the moment- oh I should probably take attendance-”

“He’s hiding in the back, Miss Marie!” Patty called, standing on her seat and pointing right at him. Marie followed with her gaze and smiled. 

“Ah, thank you so much Patty. Don’t stand on the seats please.” Her voice rose. “Soul, come down here! There’s no need to be shy!”

Soul stood reluctantly, slinking down to the third row. Nearly everyone watched his descent with curious eyes, not the least bit embarrassed about staring. Great.

“Everyone, meet our pianist, Soul Evans.” Soul cringed at the sound at his family’s name. To his surprise however, no one batted an eye. At least not that he noticed. Well it was a high school. And a public one at that, even if it were particularly well-funded. “I hope you’ll all welcome him warmly. Now-” she turned to the stack of papers on her chair, picking up a plain clipboard. “Attendance. Will everyone on stage crew come to the front please?”

Marie set to the task of calling out names alphabetically. When she was finished, she instructed those not planning to audition to seek out the stage manager- Kim Deihl. To those remaining she passed out scripts and advised to begin practicing actual lines- the auditions were in less than a week after all. 

When all was sorted, Marie made her way over to Soul, a small mountain of papers still in her hands. “Soul, this is the music for the show. I’m very excited to have you join our drama program.” She handed him a fairy thick folder. “You can look over it now if you’d like, and we have a piano over there-” she pointed down to the left of the stage “or the music room is empty this period, if you’d rather have some privacy to practice. As long as I write you a pass and unlock the door for you that should be fine too.”

“I think I’ll just look over it for today, if that’s okay.” Soul said.

“Oh, of course. It’d be good for you to get used to things here too.”

“Can I sit back there?” Soul nodded to the back row. “More quiet and stuff.” 

“Oh! Yes, I understand. Go right ahead!” She said, smiling brightly.

Soul mumbled a “thanks” and returned to the back of the auditorium, shifting through the folder of sheet music. It was all-around pretty straightforward. He could probably sight read most of it. Soul sighed. At least it would be easy. Then again, if he managed to screw up such basic pieces after months of practice, it would be in front of everyone. It would probably mess up the pit band too, and whoever was singing on stage. He wasn't used to performing with other people, barring the rare violin accompaniment.

But that had been the price he’d haggled with his parents to attend public school. He had to be involved in music somehow, and after reading his transcripts the principle had been exuberant to have him assist with the spring musical. Soul couldn’t exactly tell the guy no.

Soul applied his efforts to reading through the sheet music for the rest of the class period. Or he pretended to. Quite honestly he spent the better half of the time disassociating. Or he was, before Marie called for another announcement.

“I’d like to remind everyone that there is a meeting after school today for everyone who plans are participating in the spring musical! We’ll meet here at 3:00!”

The bell rang just as her announcement ended. Soul wasn’t looking forward to spending another moment with the theater kids, but he guessed that came with it being an extracurricular. He was going to spend every free moment he had in this damn auditorium, wasn’t he?

The school day ended even sooner than he dreaded. Soul dragged his feet through the hallways, thinking of any way to avoid the meeting. He could always tell Miss Marie that he couldn’t attend, and stop by to see her sometime tomorrow. He shuddered at the thought of one-on-one interaction, but at least he wouldn’t be in a room full of people with genuine passion for musicals.

As Soul debated which fate was worse, he passed the open doors to the gymnasium. The lights were out, the room seemingly empty. He guessed there wouldn’t be many practices the first day back from school. Even jocks didn’t hate themselves that much.

Glancing either way, Soul slipped into the room. It certainly wouldn’t hurt to postpone his attendance to the meeting for a little bit. If he got there at 3:01, then no one could spend the time before the meeting talking to him.

Soul set his backpack down and took a seat on the bleachers. It was a fairly nice gymnasium, not that he had much expertise in the area. It seemed that the school funded athletics just as well as it did the arts. 

His thoughts were interrupted by the resounding click of a heavy light switch. He jumped, thinking of excuses for why he was loitering in the abandoned gym, before a familiar face emerged from the equipment closet. 

“Maka?”

She seemed taken aback. “Soul?”

“What are you doing here?” Soul asked.

“I, uh. Lacrosse practice doesn’t start til next week but I wanted to get in some training ahead of time. What are you doing here?”

“The doors were open.”

“Coach gave me the keys.” Maka held them up as she said so. “I’m supposed to keep the doors open when I’m in here alone so none of the faculty hear racket and think someone who’s not supposed to be in here is.”

Soul rubbed the back of his neck. “Aren’t you not supposed to be in here? I mean, you just asked and that’s it? You’re a student.”

Maka smiled, flipping the keys around and into the pocket of her gym shorts. “I’m a  _ good  _ student. And a star athlete. I get special permissions.” she said.

“A star athlete huh?” 

“And a three-time academic decathlon winner.” Maka said proudly, taking a seat next to him on the bleachers. “Not to brag or anything.” 

“Of course not.”

Maka leaned back, stretching. “What  _ are  _ you doing here though? You seemed ready to go home by lunch.”

_ Busted.  _ “There’s uh, a meeting.” he explained.

“For what?” She asked.

“Uh...drama. Class.” he said.

Maka perked up.“You’re in drama?”

“Not really. I’m supposed to play piano for the musical.”

Maka clapped her hands together, smiling brightly. She was like a goddamn solar light. “That’s great Soul, you’re so good! What time is the meeting?”

Soul stifled a groan. “Like...3-ish.”

Her smile fell. “Soul that’s like five minutes ago. Why are you here?”

“I didn’t wanna be there longer than I had too.” He had nothing to be ashamed of. It’s not like he was skipping class. So why did he feel like crawling under a rock?

“So you’re avoiding it?” Maka questioned.

“No. I’m not.” Soul said. He didn’t exactly have much ammunition to argue with though. 

“Ugh, come on Soul.” Maka stood, pulling him with her. “I’ll go with you.”

He flushed. “I do  _ not  _ need a chaperone.”

Maka picked up his backpack, shoving it at his chest and smirking. “Clearly you do. Someone has to vouch for your late-ness.”

Before he could argue further, Maka was locking the gym behind them and dragging him in the direction of the auditorium. She opened the black doors and pulled him though until they were standing half-way down the aisle, a reasonable distance from the rest of the people gathered in the first few rows. Heads turned at the noise, including that of Miss Marie. So much for not drawing attention to himself.

“Oh, Soul, I’m glad to see you. I was worried you’d forgotten.” Her gaze shifted to his right, and her smile warming farther. “And Maka! It’s so good to see you. What are you doing here?”

An impulse struck Soul at that exact moment, a very wicked one, and before Maka could open her mouth, he spoke for her. “She wants to join stage.”

“What?” Maka asked. 

“Yeah.” Soul answered. “She didn’t know about the meeting so I had to go find her after school. That’s why we’re late.”

Marie’s look of confusion shifted into a smile. The woman was absolutely  _ delighted.  _ “Oh I’m so happy to hear that Maka! We’ve just barely started our meeting, so you have nothing to worry about. Why don’t you two take a seat, I’ll add you to the list.”

“I-” Maka started.

“Alright everyone,” Marie said, turning to face the rest of the room. “Now that everyone is here, we can start our announcements.”

Soul took a seat in a middle row, leaving the one closest to the aisle for a heated Maka. 

“You-” she glanced down to Marie, then took the seat next to him, whispering fiercely. “What the hell, Soul?”

“If I’m going down, I’m bringing you with me.” he muttered back.

“ _ I _ am  _ not _ joining stage crew.”

“But she already signed you up.”

“I will drop it!” she seethed.

“But Maka!” Soul gasped quietly, putting a hand over his heart in mock insult “The star student, not following something through! Marie would be so disappointed!”

Maka took a deep breath, fuming. Her eyes looked like they were on fire. “You trapped me in this!” She whispered, punctuating each word with strong but quiet punch to the arm. 

“You made me go to this meeting!” Soul argued.

“You- you had to go anyway! Why’d you sign up if you didn’t want to go?”

“I didn’t sign up, they forced my hand! I needed an extracurricular!”

Marie looked up to them. “Soul, Maka? Is everything okay?” She had a unique way of sounding genuinely concerned, despite every once of experience Soul had telling him that that was supposed to be passive-aggressive question. 

Maka took another breath, smiling pleasantly. “Nothing, Miss Marie. Soul was just catching me up with what I missed during drama class. But I’m all caught up now!”

“Oh. Alright then, Well-” She continued her announcements.

Maka was quiet for a moment, listening to Marie address the room. It was mostly about scheduling, and a few things about songs and getting everyone’s email address so she could send them information concerning the musical. 

Maka sighed again. “You owe me Soul. I know you just want me to join so you’re not all alone. Even though Kid and Patty are both in the musical too.”

Soul wanted to argue, insisting that he didn’t  _ want  _ her to join, that he signed her up out of revenge. The again, he didn’t want to push it. It would be nice to have some company. “Thank you.” he said instead.

The meeting came to a close without further interruption. As students shuffled out of the room Marie approached Soul and Maka.

“I’m so glad you volunteered to join us, Maka.” Marie said. “You’re so hardworking, I know you’ll be a great asset to the tech crew. Not to mention you can keep your peers in line better than I can some days.” She chuckled. “If there’s any scheduling conflicts just let me know.  I know lacrosse is starting soon, and we’re in decathlon season. I can excuse a few missed hours over here.”

“Thank you so much, Miss Marie.” Maka said. “I’m really grateful to be part of the musical this year.”

“I’m grateful you’re willing to put in the time.” Marie answered warmly. She turned to Soul, handing him a flashdrive. “Soul, these are the tracks for the musical, with and without vocals. I thought they might help if you get to a tough part in the music.” 

Soul glanced to the flashdrive in his hand. It had a skull on it. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. After-school rehearsals don’t start until next week, and stage will be meeting after then too, so I’ll email you both rehearsal and stage crew schedules this afternoon.” She glanced up to the auditorium doors, then smiled at the both of them. “Have a good day, both of you.”

“You too.” Maka answered.

Almost as soon as Marie stepped out of the doors, a blonde blur launched herself onto Maka, laughing wildly. “Yay! Maka’s joining stage!”  
Maka chuckled, doing her best to slink out from under the grips of one very excited Patty. “I guess so.”

Her sister approached them them, followed by Kid, who were both understandably a few steps behind the speed-demon. “And what brought this on?” Kid asked, eyeing Soul suspiciously. “I was under the impression you were rather busy during the spring.”

“Ah, yeah, but you know, it’s Patty’s first year and everything, and Soul’s, so I thought-” she shrugged, the motion slightly hindered by Patty’s iron grip around her arm and shoulders “You know, I could make time.”

“You’re so sweet, Maka.” Liz said. “If you need a break from anything just let me know, though. I’m really good at forging absence notes.”

“Thanks Liz, but I’m sure Soul will help me carry the load. Right Soul?”

Damnit. He’d really dug his own grave here, hadn’t he? “Uh, yeah. No problem.”

“Speaking of which, I still want to get in a little lacrosse practice today.” She smiled at him sweetly. “Will you help chase balls?”

Soul smiled back, a small, tight crease in his face learned from years of having to attend the parties of people he hated. “Sure thing, Maka. Happy to help.”

“Well then, we better get going.” Maka finally managed to release herself from Patty’s embrace, and waved to the group. “We’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

A trio of goodbye’s followed, and Soul followed Maka out of the auditorium at last. “Do you really need help chasing balls?” He asked once they were out of earshot.

“Oh I don’t  _ need  _ help. It would probably even be better if I ran after them myself. But you’re going to help me anyway because you  _ owe  _ me.”

“Is this going to be a regular thing?”

Maka put a finger under her chin as they walked. “Hm. No. Unfortunately official lacrosse practices are starting soon. But don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll find other things for you to help me with, since I’m helping you so graciously with the musical.” She darted ahead into the gym then, not at all perturbed by how much of a nerd she looked like when she had to stop to unlock the doors.

Soul eyed her wearily and thought back on the impulsive choice to volunteer her, wondering if it had really been worth the look on her face.

He supposed he would know when he saw how much he’d have to run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’d like to specify that Maka is in tech crew as opposed to running crew, which means she’ll be involved in aspects of the production that do not require her to be active during the actual showing, such as building the set. It’s a surprize tool that will help us later.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you read this chapter I want to disclose I have nothing against k-pop music or people who listen to it, Soul is just a music snob.

Despite her threats, Maka didn’t really to ask that much of him. As the weeks passed, Soul found that she was ridiculously set on being independent, no matter how much piled up. He had to respect her diligence. On the other hand, he was pretty sure if she kept trying to lift the 2’ by 20’ plywood on her own she was going to hurt herself.

“Maka,” Soul climbed down from the partially assembled balcony. “Just let me help.”

“I don’t need help,” she snapped. “I’m just as strong as you are.”

Soul groaned. “I’m  _ know.  _ You need help, not someone to do it for you.”

Suddenly, Jackie, the quiet right hand of the stage manager, approached them. “Maka, if you have a moment, could you help Tsugumi with props? I want to make sure the calligraphy is even and none of us really have an eye like yours.” Her voice quieted further. “It would be best if you got there soon, she's a sweetheart but I'm pretty sure she's gonna get too eager and mess it up.”

Maka glanced at Soul, then dropped the plywood. “Of course,” she agreed, making her way towards stage left where their underclassmen was eyeing a very crooked-looking sign.

“Thanks.” Soul grumbled. 

“No problem.” Jackie said, reaching down to lean the discarded plywood closer to the set. “I know she’s too stubborn for anyone’s good.” She smirked, taking a seat on the set stairs. “By the way, shouldn’t you be practicing? Miss Marie is going to want to start rehearsing with the piano as soon as the set’s done. Or even before then.”

“Eh, that’s in a few weeks,” Soul dismissed. “Besides, I’d feel bad leaving her to work on stage by herself. I kinda signed her up for this.”

“She’s gonna do it herself anyway.” Jackie informed.

“Yeah, I’m learning that.” Soul said flatly.

Jackied chuckled. “It’s very nice that you’re willing to anyway.” She kicked the plywood. “Help me with this, will you?”

Soul sighed. “Sure.”

“You don’t need to sound so downtrodden.” Jackie lifted half the plywood onto her shoulder. “You were just offering to help.”

“My own grave.” Soul said, hefting up the other half. Between the two of them they were able to carry the plank around to the back of the set, where it would be used to built the support. Jackie headed back over to props, while Soul returned to his post at the fake-balcony, just as Maka returned. She glared at him. 

“You did the plank while I was away.” she accused.

Soul held up his hands in defence. “I didn’t, promise. Jackie did.”

Maka narrowed her eyes. “Jackie did it by herself?”

“Well, no. I helped. Woulda helped you, but you wouldn’t let me. It wasn’t gonna get done with one person unless Blackstar decided to sign up for stage crew.”

“Ugh, please, don’t ruin these few blissful hours without him.”

Soul smirked. “Are you sure? I think he could really help out.”

“He’d wreck the whole place in a day!” Maka shook her head. “In an hour if Patty were here at the same time.” Maka started over to the edge of the stage, where a few kids were working on prop potions bottles. 

“Do you need help with anything else?” Soul asked her.

Maka gave him an incredulous look. “Don’t you have piano pieces to be practicing?”

“I have a few weeks.”

“Ugh, Soul,  _ go.” _ she pushed him towards the real stairs descending from the stage. “I gotta be here anyway, it’s not like you can help me manage my time. Go practice in the other room. Or go home. You don’t have to be here.”

Soul sighed in defeat, finally allowing himself down the stairs. “Fine, I’ll practice. See you later, Maka.” 

“I’ll see you, Soul.”

Soul dragged his feet to the black double doors of the auditorium, picking up his backpack on the way. Pulling out his phone, he weighed his options. He could go home. But it wasn’t quite late enough for his parents to be in bed, and he didn’t exactly want to have a ‘how was your day’ conversation. Not to mention the ‘why are you always coming home so late’ lecture. He’d won a little bit of freedom through public school, he didn’t want to compromise it. 

He could take the long way home, by which he meant taking a gravel road that his bike hated and two separate detours. Wasn’t the best way to spend his time either.

Soul resigned himself for his fate with a heavy sigh, walking down the hall to the music room. The door was unlocked, courtesy of Miss Marie. Soul pulled out his sheet music and dropped his bag on the ground in front of the baby grand piano. He’d be on an upright for the show, but he wasn’t keen on practicing on it until he had to, especially with an auditorium full of stage crew. Soul took a seat, arranging the music haphazardly across its stand. 

The incidental music made him sick just to think about. Lazy notes strung together, if not wordless paradies of the most important songs meant to play over any sound the scene changes made. Soul flipped pass the first piece.

Second, third...Soul sighed. He might as well practice the big piece at the end of act one. It was usually the most important anyway. Soul brushed over the first few bars. He wasn’t even sure how he was supposed to play when he was accompanying a bunch of actors. Was he supposed to play louder? Softer? And of course his counts were going to half-depend on whatever the singers  _ thought  _ the counts were at any particular moment. There wasn’t a conductor, and Soul seriously doubted the ability of a bunch of untrained high schoolers to maintain a steady beat. Or be able to hold out notes to the proper length in anything but four-four. 

So this was  _ pointless.  _ Soul allowed his playing to trail off. This was al dependent on the cast anyway, so what good did it do to practice without them. It wasn’t like he couldn’t sight read every piece. Then again...it might be harder to sight read when he had to pay attention to the actors. He started playing again, then trailed off, sliding his hands off the keys. 

This would be a disaster, no matter how well he played. 

It had been weeks and Soul still wasn’t resigned to the fact that it was happening, whether he liked it or not. He was going to perform publicly, something he hadn’t done since he was ten and the allure of ‘child prodigy’ had not yet been outweighed by how pathetic he was at being a _real_ musician. Now he was going to perform in a _high school musical._ His extended family would be appalled. Hell, his parents would be appalled, if they still cared as much. He didn’t know which prospect was worse.

Soul felt his face twist. He slammed at the keys again for just a few beats ignoring the sheet music, the chords and rhythm tangling into grotesque enough a sound to feel like what was happening  _ inside.  _

“Soul?”

Soul’s head shot up from the piano, over which he’d been hunched like some fucking manic. “Maka.” He said. “Is everything okay?”  _ Why are you here?  _ Was what he was really asking.

Maka shook her head, stepping in from the doorway. “No, I- everything’s fine. Stage crew ended.” She paused. “Are you okay?”

Soul leaned back, looking away. “I’m fine.”

“Okay.” She paused. “Was that from the musical?”

Soul internally groaned. What was he supposed to say? He couldn’t _lie._ “Uh, no. I was just...getting stuff out.”  
“Oh. Well...it really felt like something.”

“‘It felt like something’. Really?” Soul scoffed.

Maka flushed, her nose scrunching up. “I don’t know about music, okay? I’m just saying I liked it.”

Soul deflated, shaking his head. “You’re so weird.”

Maka was silent for a moment, probably debating whether or not she should continue to be mad at him. She seemed to decide against it, and sighed. “I just came here to let you know that everyone’s going home.” She crossed her arms. “I didn’t expect you to stay so long. You seem pretty reluctant to practice most of the time.”

“I lost track of time.” Soul scratched his head. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“No problem.” Maka said. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Soul.”

“Yeah. I’ll see you.”

Maka left the room with a little wave. He could hear her walking down the hall. Anyone could, with the combat boots she wore. He’d even bet some money they were military grade. Her reasoning for stomping around in such monstrosities was anyone’s guess.

Soul sighed again and shuffled the music back into its folder. The folder into his backpack, his backpack onto his shoulder. Soul grabbed the keys from his pocket, locking the door behind him. So much for practicing. He’s spent more time thinking about how miserable he was than the music. At least he knew distractions weren’t going to stump him. Then again, distractions weren’t super helpful when it came to memorization.

Soul left the school ten minutes after eight, revving his bike loudly before taking off. Quiet riding was for when he pulled into the driveway at home. Hopefully his parents wouldn’t complain about his hours.

He had a few more months.

 

*** 

 

Soul dragged his feet into the school cafeteria, lunch tray in hand. Despite his initial acceptance, cafeteria food seemed only to be getting worse instead of better. He’d grabbed mac and cheese today, because really, how dangerous could it be if it didn’t have potentially rotten meat? Taking a closer look he was having his doubts. The food seemed...uncomfortably thick. He should have just gone with pizza.

Sighing, Soul made his way over to his lunch table, It had been a little over a month, and by now he had settled into a fairly regular routine. Or at least as regular as things could be with Patty Thompson and Blackstar Barrett in the same room. The debatably more demonic of the two was talking animatedly at the at the table, turning from her sister and flashing Soul a wide smile as he sat down. “Soul, look at this!”

Shoved into his face was what Soul could only assume was a crude drawing of an animal print...something. He wasn’t sure. “It’s a...leopard? Sleeping?”  
Patty snorted “No silly! I was talking to Miss Marie about costumes! She said the witch was really zany, so I wanna do all this crazy stuff with her costume! I wanna do a fur coat! Like a giraffe! And big triangle earrings and my hair all frizzed up and other stuff too that I don’t know yet but it’s gonna be awesome!” She leaned back, giggling. “I’m gonna steal the show!”

“That’s...nice.” He had started to question how fitting her ideas were for the play, because he was pretty sure it was medieval europe or something, but Liz had shot him a look that he was starting to recognize as meaning ‘burst my sister’s bubble and I’ll eviscerate you’. 

“It really is, Patty.” Tsubaki agreed, “I can’t wait to see it onstage.”

“Don’t remind me that that picasso painting of an outfit is going to be put together in real life.” Kid lamented, laying his head on the cool table. “I’m coming down with something just thinking about it.”

Kid’s turmoil was interrupted by the sound of a uniform plastic tray clicking down on the table, followed by Maka collapsing into her seat. “Sorry I’m late,” she sighed, “I was talking to Miss Azusa about the decathlon. Again.”

Soul felt a twinge of guilt.That made the third time this week she had been late. On Wednesday she had missed the whole period. Monday she had barely had time to stuff a peanut butter and jelly sandwich into her mouth between reviewing trivia with Tsubaki.

Miss Azusa was, according to Tsubaki, just a teensy-bit strict when it came to the academic decathlon. Which probably meant she was extremely strict. Maka had been showing up to lunch frazzled for the past two weeks, squeezing in scheduling and practice with the teacher whenever she could. She had already worked out the occasional tardiness due to lacrosse practice, but with stagecrew added to the load, she was cutting her practices even shorter, something Miss Azusa clearly wasn’t pleased with. 

“Sorry.” Soul mumbled.

Maka gave him a crooked smile. “It’s okay. She understands I’m spread a bit thin right now. As long as I keep up my performance she said she can accept me sharing my time,” She leaned back in her seat, taking a deep breath. “It would be nice to catch a break though.”

“Well, you don’t have practice tonight, right?” Liz said, examining a tomato from her salad for a moment before handing the fork it was skewered on to Patty.

“Not for the decathlon, no,” Maka said, “I still have lacrosse and stage crew though.”

“And weekend practices will be starting soon,” Tsubaki added. “The competition is just a little over a month away.”

Maka groaned. “Just let me enjoy my lunch.”

Blackstar leaned forward, somehow still managing to exude his energy throughout the entire cafeteria. “That’s what you get for being such a nerd, Maka.” He said. “Look at me. Star of all the sports teams, and I have all the time in the world.” He leaned back in his chair, folding his hands behind his head.

“You’re failing your classes.” Maka answered dryly.

“I am  _ not,”  _ He stood up in what Soul would consider the perfect specimen of  _ come at me bro  _ posture. “Straight C’s, Maka. A god doesn’t fail at anything!”

“Only because Tsubaki  _ makes _ you study.” Maka shot back. The girl in question was currently coaxing Blackstar back into his seat.

Kid seemed to shudder at something, lips pressed tight. “Cs may have you passing but I’d consider them a falling a bit short to be considered godly.”

“Yeah dude!” Patty yelled, standing up as well. “You gotta make BEES! BUZZZ!”

“Ugh, enough.” Liz lifted up her fork, feeding another tomato to her sister, and effectively getting the younger girl back in her seat. “Maka, you sure you can handle all this? I mean, Miss Marie’s jazzed to have you helping and all, but it’s not like she won’t be understanding if you tell her you’ve got too much on your plate. You’ve already done a lot with stage.”

Maka’s eyes hardened. “No. If I was gonna back out of something, I would have done it at the start. I’m not quitting.”

“You’re so stubborn.” Soul said. He usually did a decent job at keeping his mouth shut, especially since Blackstar and Patty made enough noise for the whole table, but more and more often it seemed this group was coaxing the participation out of him.

“It’s called _drive_ Soul. If I keep my head in the game, I can tackle anything. And I will.” She smiled, turning to everyone. “Thank you guys so much for everything, but I can handle this. If I need something, I’ll ask. I promise.” She decidedly ignored the scoff, the noisy “fat chance”, and the sarcastic _sure you will_ expressions that made their way across the table, one of which might have come from Soul and one of which _definitely_ came from Blackstar. But she had time to eat today, at least. Maybe it was best not to push things by roping her into an argument.

They spent the rest of the period on different subjects, school-related and otherwise. Over the weeks he'd grown tentatively closer to the group. Even Blackstar was growing on him, his stark loyalty shining through his typical dudebro attitude. He was a good friend, though Soul continued to gravitate towards Maka the most. Whether that was due to a sense of guilt or a genuine preference for her presence was something he'd rather not think about.

Still, after the school day had ended Soul found himself wandering back to the lacrosse field instead of heading to the parking lot. Stage crew wasn't until that evening, so there wasn't really an incentive to rehearse until then, or that's what he told himself every day.

Maka's team was still warming up by the time Soul made it to comparatively inconspicuous post next to the inactive concession building.  It was still cold by the standards of Death City, which only meant that most of the boys on the team still had their shirts on. The blaring exception, with no surprise to Soul, was Blackstar, who'd already broken a sweat doing two sit ups for every one done by his teammates

“Blackstar, you're going to wear yourself out!’” The man who spoke, presumably the coach, seemed to have sheen of grey behind his skin that made him look half-dead. Soul would have been concerned if he hadn't seen him in the school gym before. He was beginning to understand that Death City High School was just like that.

Blackstar shouted back at his coach, quickening his pace. “HA! Stars don't burn out for centuries! I'll keep going til I'm dead, old man!” Before he could spit out anything else a water bottle hit him in the head with startling force. Soul followed it's path back to Maka, who was continuing her sit ups between glaring at her friend.

“Stars burn for eons, you moron, and last I checked you were still mortal, so pace yourself.”

Blackstar let out a colorful response that had the team guffawing and the coach ordering an extra lap for warm ups in a tone of voice that had Soul strongly suspecting it was a regular occurrence.

The team was good though. Despite their rowdiness they clearly gave everything their all. Even Blackstar buckled down.

When Soul was satisfied that the team was focused enough on practice to not notice his presence, he moved over to the edge of bleachers, putting in his headphones and watching them play. Unfortunately during the next water break he was notices by Maka, who waved at him enthusiastically. So much for being inconspicuous. 

Soul didn't know a lot about sports. He didn't even watch football. It was honestly one of the few things he and his parents could agree about. But he was pretty sure, as time went on, that Maka's team was pretty good. By the time practice had ended he'd lost track of how many collective goals they'd made (and how many their goaltender had blocked), and Soul was pretty sure how quickly the ball made it around the field was also a pretty good indication of their skill.

When practices ended, both Maka and Blackstar made their way over to him, the later jumping up onto the bleachers.

‘'Sup dude! Come to watch the big star play?”

“I don’t think so,” Maka answered . “I doubt Soul even knows what sport we’re playing.”

Soul ignored her. “Something like that,” he said, meeting Blackstar with a fistbump. “You were pretty cool, man.”

“Ha! Told you!” Blackstar shouted. “The great me always steals the show!”

Maka rolled her eyes. “Really, why are you here? Rehearsal isn’t until this evening.”

“Uh,” Suddenly, with both Maka and Blackstar staring at him expectantly, his plan seemed like a very bad idea. “I thought, maybe we could hang out before rehearsal. I could buy you a coffee or something, to make up for- I mean, everything, I guess. With your schedule.” He finished lamely. He wished he’d at least waited until Blackstar had left to make his offer. The blue-haired gorilla would never let him hear the end of it.

“I don’t drink coffee.” Maka said.

“Oh. Uh, sorry then, I-”

“There’s a subway down the street though, and I like to eat before rehearsal, if you wanna join me”.  
“Uh, yeah. That works. Cool.” _God, he sounded lame._ But Maka smiled brightly at him and he was finally able to take a breath to calm himself.

“I just have to change and stop by Miss Azusa’s classroom really quick, then I’ll be good to go. I’ll see you in a few.” She waved quickly and jogged off in the direction of the school locker rooms.

“... _ Dude.”  _

Soul snapped his head around to face Blackstar before schooling his expression.    
“Shut up.”

“Did you just ask Maka out on a date?”

Soul bristled. “It’s not a date.”

“Really? Cause that’s exactly what it sounds like.”

“Don’t you have a study date with Tsubaki you should be getting to?” Soul shot back.

Blackstar waved dismissively, which from Blackstar was swinging his whole arm. “Pssh, Gods have no time for petty mortal affairs.”

“Yet you still need a tutor.”

The two snapped back and forth at each other for no more than five minutes (Okay, maybe ten) before they settled into a more comfortable conversation. Blackstar actually had some pretty cool things to say when he dragged his head out of the clouds. At the very least he was a nice companion, someone with whom he could talk aimlessly without the pressure of judgement. 

Maka returned not too long after, hair tied in a fresh ponytail and changed into her day clothes. 

“You ready to go? Rehearsal starts in an hour.”

“Yeah.” Soul stepped down from the bleachers to join her. “Bye Star.”

“See ya dude.” Blackstar let his hand hang from the bleachers for another high five as they walked past, which Soul obliged. When they were out of earshot, Maka spoke. 

“I'm glad you're getting along.”

Soul scoffed “I'm pretty sure he's destined to run me over with a four-wheeler.”

“Oh no, he doesn't have a four-wheeler. a pickup truck is way more likely.” She gestured back to the field behind them, where Blackstar was helping the coach stuff equipment into a bag. “He and his dad are working on an old truck. If they manage to get it running, Blackstar has free reign of it.”

Soul's eyebrows raised above his bangs. “Is he a maniac? He knows he's gonna crash that thing in like, three days right?”

“I'm sure. But that's just how Sid is. He'd rather Blackstar crash in a junk car he put together himself than to steal his and crash it in the middle of the night.”

It didn't take long for them to walk to the subway, (Soul cringed at the word. This wasn't a date, but to take a girl to subway went against everything he was ever taught. His mother would have an ulcer) and it didn't take much longer for them to get their food and find a table. By the time they were settled they had about 45 minutes until rehearsal.

“So,” Maka began, unwrapping her sandwich “How is practice going?”

Soul almost laughed “Shouldn't I be asking you? You have a million more things going on.”

“You're dodging the question.” Maka said pointedly.

Soul sighed, crunching on a small bag of chips. “It's fine. I could sight-read all of it. I have all the like, in-between parts memorized.”

Maka's eyes brightened. “I'm really exited to hear you play.”

“You've heard me play.” Soul was still getting used to the fact. He hadn't played for anyone since he was twelve, and even that was the trailing end of practices with his tutor. “Besides, aren’t they playing the soundtrack all the time during stage crew?”

“I'm excited to hear  _ you  _ play,” Maka insisted, “You're really good Soul. You're gonna bring this thing to a whole different level.”

“I think you're overestimating someone who's never been accompaniment” Soul commented.

“Accompaniment?”

“...Like, the side sound. Playing with other people. Jeez, Maka you really don't know anything about music, do you?”

“So? You don't know anything about sports. Besides, I know plenty of bands that you don't know” she challenged.

“Like what?”

“Girls Generation. Blackpink.”

Soul almost spit out his drink “ _ K-pop,  _ Maka, are you serious?

“2NE1, Loona-”

“Please stop,” Soul held out his hands in knock surrender. “Every musically trained bone in my body is screaming. I'd rather you listen to musicals.”

Maka folded her arms, seemingly content with what she clearly thought of as a victory. “I'm just saying, my musical repertoire is just as full as yours. Just because I don't know classical stuff doesn't mean I don't know music.”

“I cannot talk to you about this,” Soul started. “How are things going? With extracurriculars and stuff?”

Maka sighed, opening her own bag of chips.  _ Sun chips, specifically.  _ Soul didn’t know how she ate those things. “Things are going okay. The set should be finished soon, so hopefully I’ll catch a break there.” She cracked a smile. “Lacrosse fun. Now that practices have really started it’s a good way to blow off steam. Games are starting soon too though, which means I’ll have to talk to Miss Marie about missing stage meetings.”

“How long have you been playing?”

“Since I was five. My mom-” she voice caught over the word, like she’s hesitated a little too late. “-wanted me to make more friends, since I was such a teacher’s pet at school. It’s how I met Blackstar actually, so it worked,” her face soured lightly. “For better or worse.”

“I didn’t know you’d been friends for so long.”

“Why else would I be friends with that lunatic?” Maka asked, but there was no bitterness in her voice.

“I figured it was because you both liked wreaking havoc.”

Maka raised her eyebrows.“Excuse me? You must be mistaking me with Patty.”

“Are you kidding me? You got so worked up in our bio lab last week that you almost gave me chemical burns.”

“You were about to contaminate the wrong vial!” Maka insisted. “It would have ruined the whole experiment!”

“I really don’t think Stein grades them that closely.”

“It’s the principle! _I_ wanted to do it right.” she shook her head. “Anyway. Back to you. I know you’re avoiding rehearsals. What about your other classes? How are you adjusting?”  
“You sound like my counselor.” Soul said dryly.

“I’m checking up on you,” Maka said. “It’s what friends do.” Soul thought of Tsubaki quietly asking Liz about how things were going at home, about Kid- who neither knew about nor cared about sports, he was sure, listening intently to Blackstar rant about football or lacrosse or whatever new extreme sport had popped into the limelight. Soul felt his chest tighten painfully.  _ Ow.  _ Okay, this was friendship apparently. It felt like Wes inviting him to a party, caring enough about him to tell him that he didn’t  _ have  _ to go, but he was welcome. It felt like Maka plopping down next to him at a New Year’s party and telling him she liked his music, even if she didn’t understand it. The feeling drew blunt (if limited) honesty out of a response he meant to be sarcastic.

“I’m doing fine academically. Most of it’s a repeat of homeschool.”

“What about- I mean, are you having  _ fun?  _ You wanted to go to public school, right.”

Soul laughed shortly. “I wanted to get away from my house.” Surprise, then  _ understanding _ shot through Maka’s eyes in less than a second. It made him want to bury himself in the ground, so he continued before she could say anything. “I’m…having fun, I guess. I’m not sitting alone at lunch and no one’s putting kick me signs on my back, so I think I’m doing pretty good,” he joked.

Maka chuckled sheepishly. “Patty actually did put a kick me sign on you a few days in. Tsubaki took it off before you could notice.”

“Are you serious?  I thought that was only in teen movies and like- anti-bullying campaigns and stuff.”

Maka rolled her eyes. “Those two do a lot of things you’d think only existed in anti-bullying campaigns. They both almost got suspended at the beginning of the year cause Blackstar tried to shove Patty into a locker. Loudly.”

“How’d they not get in trouble?”

“Oh they got in trouble. Several after-school detentions.” She leaned in conspiringly. “But Kid’s dad is the principle, and Liz and Patty are like sisters to him, so they Patty and Blackstar managed to weasel out of it.”

Soul’s jaw would have dropped if he hadn’t been taught not to talk with his mouth full. He swallowed. “Kid’s _ dad _ is the principle?”

Maka chuckled, popping another chip in her mouth. “Yeah, I’m surprised you didn’t figure it out. You met him right? He’s the spitting image.”

“I mean, yeah- yeah I guess you’re right. I just never put it together.” Soul huffed. “That bastard could’ve gotten me out of the musical.”

“Probably. For someone nicknamed ‘lord death’ he really is a pushover.”

Soul stared at Maka, then shook his head. “You’re school is so fucking weird.”

“It’s you’re school too, buddy. Extracurriculars and all.”

Soul sighed. “Right. I’m sorry about that. Again.

Maka cocked her head. “About what?”

“About- I mean, you’re only in this mess because I made you join stage crew. You

wouldn’t be spread so thin if I hadn’t.”

“Maka shook her head. “Soul, I’ve been cutting it close since freshman year. If I wasn’t doing stage crew, I’d be tutoring, or being a library aid. It’s not a big deal.

But it  _ was _ a big deal. The guilt had been curling around his lungs for  _ weeks,  _ but they’d hardly had the time alone for him to properly apologise. And if he didn’t get his explanation- his apology through to her now it would kill him.

‘I-I’m usually not that pushy,” He tried. “I think I was just- I got freaked out over nothing. I didn't-”

“It's okay, Soul,” Maka interrupted. “ I know. I promise. You're actually really sweet.” She smiled, comfort taking human form, and his chest felt tight again. “And I told you before, you couldn't make me do anything. I chose to join. If I didn't want to I would have just thrown you under the bus with Miss Marie.”

Soul groaned, guilt and relief battling against one another as he lay his head face down on the table. “I'm still sorry,” he grumbled.

“And it’s still okay,” She assured. There was a beat of silence as Maka checked her watch. “Practice starts soon. We should head back to the school.”

Soul dragged his head up to see that Maka was already throwing out their empty wrappers. Soul made sure to hold the door open for her as they left.

The walk back to the school seemed longer, though not for awkward silences. Maka talked with him easily, and their conversation lasted just long enough for Soul to accept that he had actually been forgiven for such a selfish move. It felt nice.

Soul decided to leave Maka in the auditorium, instead heading to his locker to pull out the sheet music he had stashed there. Rehearsing his own part was the least he could do, even if Maka miraculously wasn’t holding a grudge. Soul glanced into the theater as he walked back down to the private music room where he rehearsed. Maka was already starting to carry out a crate half her size full on paint cans that he was almost certain were still heavily full. It really shouldn’t have surprised him that Maka wasn’t resenting him for volunteering her. Looking back on the past month, on the interactions with her friends and in their bio labs, she was the kind to take on a heavier load than she could handle in every sense of the word. She seemed to thrive on it even, sighing with satisfaction every time she did  _ all  _ that she could. 

Soul laid the sheet music before him, idly playing out the opening song without really paying attention. He admired it about her, though he’d never admit it. He’d spent the last four years decidedly  _ not  _ giving his all. That was for people whose best was good enough, who weren’t at a disadvantage for the vulnerability of caring to much. But Maka cared so much, rushed forward with everything she had and was anything but vulnerable. 

Soul’s playing faded into the second song without turning the sheet music. Maka was never afraid, like the heroine whose solo he was playing now. She put herself on the line and didn’t even flinch. It made him want to curl into himself deeper, the mere idea of being so brave making him nauseous. It made him want to peek out of his shell, to make sure  _ someone  _ was there to catch her if she fell.

That was something he could do, even if it was the only thing. He was good at being on standby. The second child, the backup, the  _ understudy _ \- he could work without the pressure. Or at least with less pressure. 

Supporting Maka seemed terrifyingly important, made him feel desperate and needed all at once, even if Maka insisted every day that she didn’t need the help. Soul shifted into the simple music designated for a scene change, and realized that maybe that was because Maka was his first real friend.

He  _ liked  _ spending time with her, liked watching her light up softly when he offered a snarky comment to whatever conversation they were having with the group. He liked watching her and Blackstar rag on each other across the lunch table, watching how smart she was, how passionate. He liked when she helped him with biology homework. Even when she scolded him,  _ got on his nerves,  _ it was paired with a comforting undercurrent that she was not  _ disappointed  _ in him, that she liked spending time with him too. That they were, in the most genuine sense, becoming  _ friends.  _

His throat felt thick as he shifted to the final song in act one, so he shifted his thoughts to the side. That was what he had wanted, wasn’t it? To make friends, to be relatively normal. Yet part of him hadn’t thought it would actually happen. Making friends had been the excuse he’d given to mask the real reason he’d wanted to attend public school. He’d wanted to get away from his parents, from pressure and disappointment. He hadn’t thought he would actually make friends.

Soul continued to play, wiping the thoughts from his mind. He had responsibilities here too, manageable ones, like perfecting the show music.

Soul played through the music twice, a few more for the biggest songs and act one a third time, before he heard a knock on the thick wooden door. It opened to reveal Maka as he turned around, music fading away as his hands left the keys.

She took a careful step into the room “Practice is over.” She smiled at him tiredly. “I'm gonna be here a bit longer, but I thought I'd let you know.”

Soul raised an eyebrow. “Aren't you exhausted? Why are you staying?”

Her face soured. “My dad's picking me up.” She fidgeted with the strap of her book bag, as if to distract herself. “He had to stay late at work or something.”

“Oh.” Soul turned back to face the piano, bitterness crawling through him. She’d been here all day. “I can wait with you, if you want.” he offered.

There was a beat of silence from Maka, before he heard her stepping closer. “Sounds cool,” she took a seat next to him at the bench, setting down her bag on the floor. “I could hear what you have so far. I've barely heard you play.”

Soul chuckled. “It's not really worth hearing.”

“I think it is.” Maka shifted, as if to make a show of settling in. “Just to get in a little more practice.”

Soul sighed, flipping back near the end of act one. “You wanna hear Patty’s song?”

Maka smiled. “Definitely.” 

Soul let his hands pull the notes from memory, sliding through the first few bars of the witch’s lament. It sounded more sinister than the name suggested, minor chords sneaking through the pitying melody. He went a little crazy on the crescendo, smiling a how overboard he knew Patty was going to go. Maybe her theatrics on stage would distract from how simple the music actually was. He glanced next to him. Maka was staring into space intently, jaw set and eyes squinted as if she was trying to figure out a timed math problem. Soul let the music fade, and Maka raised her chin to look at him.

“That...didn’t sound like what they play during stage.” she said slowly.

Soul laughed. His confidence had always been lacking, but even he knew better than to think he’d played it  _ that  _ badly. “Probably cause it didn’t have the words. The main melody wasn’t there.”

“Oh.” Maka blinked, then buried her face in her hands. “Ugh, music is so dumb.”

Soul chuckled again. “This stuff is, maybe,” he gestured to the sheet music before him. “At least we can agree on that.”

Maka sat up. “Well, what other music do you like? Besides piano stuff.”

Soul considered, flexing his hands. “Like, jazz. Classic rock. Different stuff.”

“Liz does too.”

Soul let his hands rest on his thighs. “Really?”

“Yeah. Or, I think so. She listed to radio music and complains about it, and Kid said he had to make like eight different playlists to sort her alternate stuff. I don’t know if she’d ever admit it. ‘Cool teen reputation’ to keep track of and all that.”

Soul snorted. “Classic rock is so much cooler than radio music.”

Maka laughed back, nudging his shoulder. “Yeah, but not being a music snob is better than classic rock.”

“I’m not a music snob, I have taste.”

“That is exactly what a music snob would say.”

Soul let his hands find their way back to the piano keys, drifting across them in a tame improvisation. “I am not taking criticism from someone who only listens to k-pop.”

“If you actually listened to it maybe you’d find it wasn’t all that bad” Maka shot back, but there wasn’t the usual fire behind her words. Instead she leaned an elbow on the edge of the piano, shifting closer to the notes.

They weren’t anything like the frustration he’d been working out the night they met. It wasn’t coming from his Soul, but someplace lighter, and a little less personal. He’d probably still be bothered if it was anyone else, but Maka couldn’t understand a bar of it anyway. Besides, she’d kind of earned at least a little trust at this point.

“I like this too.” Maka said, after a few minutes with only the music between them. “Still don’t get it, but its nice.”

Soul chuckled, surprised to find the sound coming from a place of warmth. “Better than k-pop?”

Maka fought back a smile. “Don’t push it.”

Maka’s dad texted her that he was in the parking lot by 8:30, after Soul had gotten her to recognize the piano parts to both Patty’s song and the finale of the show.

“Thanks for waiting with me,” Maka said. “I had fun.”

“No problem.” Soul gathered his bag as Maka stood in the doorway.

“I’d walk you out, but my dad will throw a fit if he knows I was with a boy.”

Soul grimaced. “He sounds like the worst.”

“He is.” Maka said dryly. Then her face brightened again, the subtle way he was beginning to recognize it did when she greeted her friends. It made Soul feel something to be on the receiving end. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Soul.”

He smiled back. “G’night.”

When Soul made it home that night, he made a short playlist of some of the most tolerable k-pop songs he could find. Okay, so maybe not all of it was  _ that  _ bad.


	4. Chapter 4

The next weeks passed in winding hills and valleys. Soul found it difficult to keep track of how much time he was spending with or without his friends, the hours spent at rehearsals being largely responsible. 

They weren’t entirely to blame, though. Blackstar was almost always to be found at the lacrosse field or in the weight room, despite Tsubaki’s gentle warnings that there was such a thing as over-training. From what Soul gathered, the regular season was coming to an end soon, meaning every game counted. Even Tsubaki was more scarce than usual, occupied with decathlon practices and squeezing tutoring sessions in with a few other students. Maka, of course, was torn between both. Most of the time she spent with Soul was in between scenes during rehearsals, darting out from backstage to catch the end of Patty’s scenes, and to tell Soul he was doing a good job playing along with the performers and the pit band. He was pretty sure that Maka wouldn’t have recognized if he was actually doing a good job or not. But she did recognize how uncomfortable he seemed. Soul figured that was the purpose of her encouragement.

But even those interactions were limited. As she had warned, Maka became increasingly occupied with lacrosse and decathlon. She missed rehearsal for games (never without a forewarning to Miss Marie of course) and was often absent from lunch altogether, choosing instead to make up for her shortened decathlon practices by training with Miss Azusa during her free period. Tsubaki started packing extra lunches to make sure everyone got fed between their busy schedules. Even Soul.

The first day it happened, he thought it was a mistake. Tsubaki caught the group after school for just a minute, handing paper bags to Soul, Maka, and Patty with a few words of council before she and Maka rushed off to decathlon, Patty and Soul to play rehearsal. He’d been so confused as to why she’d decided to  _ feed  _ him that he thought she must have meant the bag for someone else. It sat in his backpack with uncertainty through most of rehearsal, until Maka arrived a few hours later and he hesitantly brought it up.

Soul explained, embarrassed, that he figured Tsubaki had made a mistake, and Maka had laughed out loud. She unrolled the top of the bag to reveal a name, written deliberately in black sharpie.  _ Soul. _

“She does this every year for us when things get busy, when she has time.” Maka explained. “You’re our friend Soul, that means Tsubaki is going to mother you.”

The idea that he was part of a group still sat strangely with him. When he thought of who he’d grown close too, he always thought of Maka. But he spent time with the others too, laughed with them,  _ liked  _ them. It took him too long to realize they thought of him as their friend. The thought made his skin prickle, but it made him feel warm too. When he’d divulged this to Maka, she'd hugged him tightly. “I’m glad you’re our friend, Soul. You deserve it.”

“...I’m glad too.”

He tried harder to deserve it. He thanked Tsubaki when she packed him food and made sure to always give Patty a big thumbs up each time she entered the stage. He shared music with Liz and helped Kid ground himself when he got overwhelmed and made up a secret handshake with Blackstar, even if he couldn’t decide whether he thought it was cool or ridiculous.

He woke up early on a  _ Saturday morning  _ to drive out and watch the decathlon regionals. 

All the big events of the spring seemed to be shifting ever closer to meet at an arrowpoint. The most important lacrosse games, the decathlon regionals, and the musical’s opening night where all scheduled to happen within the same two weeks (coincidentally, or perhaps by the intention of some chaotically apathetic entity known jokingly as Principal  _ Death,  _ the third quarter reports were also to be released a mere week after). Which meant Soul, between the stress of life and school and the unfamiliar effort of having  _ friends,  _ was running on even less sleep than usual. But Maka had picked at her nails on friday, a dangerous and tense fire in her eyes as she and Tsubaki reviewed flashcards and she told Soul solemnly and anxiously that this was the most important weekend of her academic junior year. So the next morning Soul woke up to drive an hour and a half through the traffic rush and watch the first academic event of his life.

The building made him uncomfortable. It was only one of several on the massive campus, and it seemed to hold itself to a standard that even the best of high schools could not. It felt exactly like a disapproving look, or a conceited smirk. Or maybe that was just the people there. 

The audience wasn’t like the kind he’d grown up with. They were mostly middle aged, old enough to be the parents of the competitors, and middle class. A few seemed uncomfortable, some excited, but many simply buzzed around with the words  _ my daughter, my son,  _ listing off achievements like his parent’s friends had listed off the names of their yachts. It reminded him of how his parents talked about Wes, how they decidedly didn’t talk about him. Soul’s eyes sought out the siblings in the audience, teenagers, enclosed and inferior,  and eager children, too young to know how much they would be compared to their sibling’s success.

Soul shook his head sharply, shrugging his jacket more firmly over his shoulders, finding himself a seat on the right side of the auditorium and far enough back that the crowd wasn’t so dense. On the same side of the room, the banner on stage boldly displayed the words  _ Death Academy,  _ with several familiar names beneath.

Today was for Maka, not that he would brag about her. An only child with more achievements than he could count, and no one to compare it to, except maybe her mother. She was better than good enough. She didn’t have anything to worry about.

Soul waited for nearly half an hour before the announcements began, listing off rules and regulations for even longer before the event actually began. And then, well...there wasn’t much to see.

Most of the event was made up of competitions on paper. There were essays, science experiments, quizzes. It was made up of several different events, as Maka had mentioned before, but it was...dull, at least from Soul’s vantage point. Though he doubted he would be any more excited if he was the one participating. 

Maka seemed anything but bored. Her expression shifted from determined to confused to elated like they were cycles of the moon, interrupted only occasionally so she could smile at her teammates or glance out into the audience. Soul could have sworn that she saw him, surprised for a second before flashing a soft smile, but then again, he was sitting several rows back. He hoped she’d seen him, that she knew he had her back, even if he knew shit about how to write an essay in 40 minutes. 

Maka was a force to be reckoned with. Even from his limited vantage point, Soul pitied the other team. Even if they  didn’t know how smart Maka was, the way she looked at them lacked no intimidation. She didn’t sneer, never a poor sport, but her expression bled confidence, and a fiery determination that Soul had come to recognize as meaning you were about to be bulldozed if you didn’t get out of the way. It made him oddly proud to see the look now, during the competition she had been fretting over for the past month. He could never feel that strong during a performance, at least not a public one. 

Hours passed, interrupted by intermissions between each event. It was well into the afternoon by the time the decathlon was finally over. Essays were graded and points counted, before finally,  _ finally _ , the victorious team was determined. Death Academy had won.

There was half a second where Soul hardly felt anything. Everyone participating was smarter than him by leagues. The tally marks that denoted one team smarter than the other hardly mattered to him more than the vaguely familiar man sobbing of happiness in the first row. Then he saw Maka leap from her seat in elation, lean into Tsubaki’s open arms gleefully, smiling widely against the other girl’s shoulder, and Soul smiled too. He felt her-  _ their  _ excitement from yards away, clapping proudly with the audience. Maka had been so worried about this for weeks, and for nothing. They’d won, like Soul had known they would. There wasn’t a force in the world that could stop Maka when she set her mind to something, not even the lengthy play rehearsals he had volunteered her for. It occurred to him for the hundredth time that maybe he should regret that, but he couldn’t. Not when it lead to him waking up early on a Saturday to drive out to Maka’s competition, not when it lead to her smiling across the audience to meet his eyes and smile wider, waving excitedly. 

Soul adjusted his jacket self consciously, but he smiled too, and waved back. Several minutes passed with the announcers directing the audience and the competitors, congratulating the opposing school on a job well done, and Death Academy on moving forward to States.

The teams exited the stage and made their way into the audience after directions from the announcers and their coaches. Kids stepped out to meet their parents for comfort or congradulation. Miss Azusa patted Maka on the shoulder when she passed, which Soul took as an excellent sign. She couldn’t really be mad at a few practices cut short when Maka had contributed so thoroughly to their school’s win. 

Soul tugged on his jacket again as he stood, wondering if he should stay in the auditorium or head back to Death Academy to make it to the day’s play rehearsal. He had a few hours still, but the people around him where suddenly moving much more like a loud ocean than an audience, and it made him nauseous.

Before he could escape through one of the back doors, however, Maka found him in the crowd, greeting him brightly and taking his hand as if to pull him closer. She had to half-shout among the noise. “I didn’t know you were coming!”

Soul tried to shrug, a difficult feat with her holding his hand. “You seemed nervous about it.” he mumbled.

“What?”

“You seemed nervous,” he repeated, now the one to use their joined hands to pull her closer. “Yesterday. I thought-- you know. To be there…” Soul wasn’t sure why he was embarrassed. Maybe it was the crowd. But Maka would have done the same for him.

“I’m glad you’re here.” Maka said, pulling him into a side-hug and avoiding a collision with one of the many streams of people around them. “Thank you.” And okay, Maybe Soul was less embarrassed than he should have been, hugging Maka in the middle of a crowd, but she was smiling right against him, and it was hard to focus on anything else. At least it was, until a middle-aged man nearly crashed into them like a meteor, and Soul finally remembered why the man sobbing in the first row had seemed so familiar.

“Makaaaaa, Papa’s so proud of you! I was watching the whole time, you were so amazing. You blew the others right out of the water, just like your mama!” 

Maka slid her arm away from where it had rested at Soul’s lower back and took a step back from the blubbering mess that was her dad, taking Soul with her. “Thanks, Papa.” she said dryly.

Spirit suddenly stood up straighter, eyes seeming to finally zero in on anything that wasn’t his daughter. “And who is this?” He asked, face hardened.

“This is Soul, Papa.” Maka said. “My friend.”

“A  _ boy _ .”

“We are  _ not _ having this conversation.”

Spirit’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t like how he’s dressed.”

“He’s dressed fine, and we’re leaving.” Maka tugged roughly on Soul’s arm, briskly weaving them though the sea of people and out of Spirit’s sight.

“Wait, Maka, I’m sorry! We don’t have to talk about that now, I want to celebrate with you! You did..!” Spirit’s voice trailed off by the time Maka lead them out the doors of the auditorium and into a gray hallway. The crowd was much thinner there, and Soul took a breath, leaning back against the wall.

“He, uh. Doesn’t like me.” Soul said.

Maka rolled her eyes. “He doesn’t like any boys. It doesn’t matter. He was playing it up to try to scare you off.”

Soul barked out a laugh. “Good job of that. The tears really sold me on the intimidating dad status.”

Maka smiled, leaning against the wall next to him. “He doesn't need to anyway, I'm intimidating enough myself.”

“Shit, you're right. That's not even a joke.”

“I  _ know. _ ”

There was a moment when things were stil, despite the bustle just a door away. Soul was smiling at Maka like an idiot, but he didn't even  _ care.  _ She was glad he'd come, and she was smiling back at him.

And then Tsubaki pushed through the doors, turning to the right and spotting them immediately. “Maka, there you are. Miss Azusa wants us to meet up before heading back to the bus,” She leaned around. “It's nice to see you, Soul. I didn't know you were coming.” Tsubaki smiled sweetly, but there was something unnerving about it too. Like she was seeing something she wasn't supposed to see.

Soul rubbed the back of his neck. “Maka was nervous yesterday,” he explained “I thought I should, you know. Be here. Moral support or whatever.”

Tsubaki's smile widened, and he swore to Death Himself that she was employing some kind of 6th sense usually reserved exclusively for mothers. But whatever she sensed with it she didn't comment on, and her face softened. “That's really sweet, Soul. I'm sure Maka appreciates it.”

“I do.” Maka straightened from her lean against the wall. “We're supposed to be back on the bus soon, and then we're probably gonna go celebrate somewhere. But thank you, Soul.” She grabbed his hand again, olive eyes earnest and soft. “I'm so, so glad you were here for me.”

And all at once it crashed on Soul what Tsubaki's horrible sixth sense had picked up on only moments before, and he felt a heat gather in his cheeks.  _ Shit shit shit-  _

“No problem.” He said, squeezing her hand back. “I'll see you Monday.”

Maka smiled and let go of his hand, waving as she stepped back through the auditorium doors. Tsubaki followed, bidding him a friendly goodbye and  _ damnit, why did she have to look at him like that _ ?

Soul made his way out of the building, wishing for once in his life that he could focus instead on the hoards of people around him.

Maka was his friend. His first real friend, if he was being honest. There was no reason he had to react this way just because someone was nice to him.

But Tsubaki was nice to him too. And Blackstar, in his own jock-ish way. He got along with Liz great, and she was way more his type than pigtailed, bookworm, man eater Maka Albarn. 

And yet he had a  _ crush.  _ On  _ Maka Albarn.  _ Cute, smart, badass Maka Albarn. He should have seen it coming. Wes had called it years ago after Soul had binged the entirety of Xena in a week.

Soul was almost able to think clearly by the time he made it back on the road. Maka couldn't find out. He was not going to fuck things up with the best friend he could ever dream to have just because he caught  _ feelings.  _ And at an academic decathlon. He could almost convince himself it was shallow if it had happened when she was shooting a badass lacrosse goal or something, but  _ no,  _ he had to have a crush on her nerdy parts too.

She was took good for him. Smart and athletic and brave, friendly enough to befriend a broody disaster with social anxiety, with a big enough heart to actually care about him. A big enough heart to care about everyone.

He was lucky to even be considered one of her friends. She was happy to have him as a friend, despite her subtle aversion to some of other boys in her class, and he wouldn't ruin that for her by giving her a reason to support that aversion. He was not going to muddle their junior year with some stupid high school  _ crush. _

Part of him was happy. Part of him was grateful that he'd found people he could care about so much, and so differently, in an environment he'd thought he was only seeking out because he wanted to get away from his parents. Part of him was giddy, now that the floodgates had been opened, wanting to swoon and daydream about how amazing she was.

The other part of him drove into the Death Academy parking lot, early for play rehearsal, and cursed himself for how clichely and monumentally he might just screw this up.

 

***

 

Liz was there when he entered the building after a few minutes spent banishing any thoughts of  _ Maka  _ and  _ crush  _ from his mind, her car parked by the back doors of the school and arms full of a large cardboard box.

“Oh, Soul, good. Take this.” She shoved the box into his hands, rushing back to the popped trunk of her hatchback. The box was full of various items, quality ranging from what looked like a craft feather boa to antique iron bookends. Liz rejoined him carrying another box of similar treasure. “Can you get the door?”

“What is this?” Soul asked, jostling his box slightly.

“Its props,” Liz answered, angling her own box on her hip to get the school door herself. “Last minute touches to pull the show together.” Liz shook her head. “I don't even know why they try to do this without me every year. I end up doing half the stage work the last week anyway.”

“You should just sign up in January then. Save yourself the rush.”

“And be stuck here every weekday after school for four months? No thank you, I do not need my name in the program that badly. Besides, Marie puts me in as special thanks anyway.” Liz winked.

“Lucky you.”

“Don't get so down, Soul, I think she wants to give you a whole page all to yourself.”

Soul groaned. “Can't I just hide in with the stage bios? No one reads them anyway.”

“You'd be surprised, some of the parents get  _ into  _ it. Not even for just their own kids.”

“Like you?”

“I am  _ not _ a parent.”

Soul nodded behind them, though they were well into the school hallways by now. “Really? Isn't that a minivan out there?” 

“It's an suv.” She said dryly. “And it's Kid's dad's.”

Liz lead them down through the auditorium, where stage screw was still setting up for rehearsal, and set her box down on the stage. Soul followed suit.

“So...how'd the decathlon go?” Liz asked as she jumped up onto the stage. Again Soul followed, albeit a bit less gracefully. There was something familiar in her voice that put him on edge.

“Uh, they won.”

“Anything else?”

Soul’s thoughts shot back to freshly realized crush. Liz was not  _ psychic.  _ “What do you mean?”

Liz shrugged her shoulders, feigning nonchalance. “I don't know. Just wondering about it.”

Soul crouched down as if inspecting the objects inside the prop box. “I couldn’t tell half of what was going on. You should ask Maka or Tsubaki, they were actually in it.” He risked a glance at Liz.

Liz was biting the inside of her cheek like she was trying to restrain a smile. “Well..I thought maybe you had your own take on things?”

And then Liz crouched down next to him, smirk still apparent, and Soul was reminded that as much as she denied it, as much as she let herself be pampered by their friends, Liz had that same maternal streak as Tsubaki. Worse, he was pretty sure they were secretly texting outside the group chat any time one of their friends did something they found particularly  _ darling.  _

“ _ No,  _ Liz.”

“What? I'm just asking a question.”

“You are  _ not.  _ They won, I said hi, I left. Nothing else happened.”

“Not to be pushy or anything Soul, but I read a different account.”

Soul rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes, letting out what might have passed as a sigh but was probably closer to a groan. “What the hell did  _ Tsubaki  _ tell you? ‘Cause it was probably bullshit.”

“Just that you and Maka were really happy to see each other.” She glanced at her nails for a second. “And you looked like deer in headlights when she caught you alone in the hallway.”

“We weren’t alone.” Soul insisted.

“Not being around people you know counts as being alone.”

“So? What does it matter anyway.?”

Liz opened her mouth with a sly smile, but before she could make Soul dread his question, a powerful weight slammed onto his back, one arm wrapped around his neck like a vice, the other reached out to Liz’s shoulder. “Did Soul and Maka finally suck face?”

“What the  _ hell _ , Patty keep it down! And we fucking  _ didn’t. _ ”

Patty flipped around them onto her own back, propped up on Liz’s legs. “That is bor- _ ing,  _ why’d you even go?”

“Why do you  _ care  _ all of a sudden? We’re friends. We’ve been friends. You’re friends with Blackstar!”

Patty’s eyes widened until they could rival two blue moons, scrambling up to frantically face her sister. “We should tell Blackstar!”

“There is  _ nothing  _ to tell.”

Liz rolled her eyes. “You guys have been sweet on each other for a month, I don’t know why you’re freaking out about it now.”  
“I am not freaking out.” Soul took a deep breath. “You guys are throwing around false accusations, and I don’t want Maka to hear about them and get the wrong idea. She doesn’t want that.”

Liz raised an eyebrow. “How do you know? Have you asked her.”

Soul was about to explain that  _ no,  _ he had not asked her, he’d hardly had time to come to terms with his stupid crush let alone think about what to  _ do  _ about it, and Maka of all people was the worst to have a crush on anyway because she’d definitely break his skull if he even asked and  _ why  _ was everyone on his back about it all of a sudden when he’d only just figured it out himself-

Liz sighed and put a hand on his shoulder. “Soul, chill. We’re not gonna tell or anything. Well, we’re gonna tell Kid, but he won’t care.” She cocked her head to the side, like she was debating her next words. “I don’t wanna be dramatic or anything Soul, but I’m pretty sure you’re Maka’s like, favorite person, if that’s what your worried about.” She pulled back her hands back in an open gesture. “If it’s what you wanted, I doubt she’d say no. But I get you guys are shy, so do whatever.”

Soul scoffed. “Maka’s not shy.”

Liz smiled, then stood. “Sure. I’m gonna see if Miss Marie needs anything. I’ll see you later, Soul.”

Patty was still on the ground, and peered up at Soul. “We actually have a group chat that’s all of us except you or Maka and we bet about if you’ll get together.”

“No you don’t.”

Patty shrugged and sprung up grabbing two feather boas from the prop box and tossing one around her shoulders, the other around Soul’s. “Whatever helps you sleep at night homie. You should meet the pit band for warm ups, I’m gonna drown out that piano of yours.”

“Sure thing.”

Patty patted him on the head and skipped away, probably off to gather the rest of her costume. It was getting more elaborate every rehearsal. 

Soul stepped away from the box of props and off the stage. He tried to clear his head as he made his way to the room the pit band warmed up in. Maka was his best friend, his favorite person. He had a crush on her. Probably had for longer than he realized. Their whole group knew, except for him apparently. And except for Maka.

He screwed up during warm ups. He kept speeding up the tempo, though at least his notes didn’t waver. He took calming breaths as the musicians made their way back into the auditorium, preparing for the run-through of the show. He’d almost gotten used to playing for the musical too. Now he was going to have to spend the next week avoiding Maka’s encouraging gaze and blocking out the teasing of the Thompson sisters.

Liz sat in the third row next to Kid and Miss Marie, ready to take notes on the performance. Maybe it was good that she was here, even if she didn’t let up about Maka. Miss Marie had the same tendency as Tsubaki to be a little too gentle, and Kid, as the student director, nitpicked to the point that all his criticism was essentially worthless. Liz was a good middle ground, with a considerable palate for musicals despite her otherwise good tastes. She really would give the performance the finishing touches it needed to be worthwhile.

Soul quietly picked his way through what he could remember of his difficult parts as he waited for the lights go down. Marie was periodically glancing around, alerting the stage crew and actors at five minutes until curtain, three, one...The lights in the auditorium dropped with a resounding click, and Soul was directed to begin the opening the intro to the opening as  the curtains reeled open. Showtime. 

Soul was careful with his playing, glancing between the conductor, his sheet music (though he didn’t need it much at this point) the actors on stage, and the three observers in the third row. Liz winked when she caught his eye. Soul made sure not to play over the actors.

Soul found himself shying away from the realization that he actually  _ cared  _ how the musical went. Not for his own sake, but for the sake of- well Kid, and for the the girls who’d spent the last half an hour teasing him about a crush. Patty crashed onto stage with a wicked howl, and Soul played her in accordingly. He grinned. He didn’t have to worry about playing over her, powerful voice and noisy stage presence unignorable. For someone barely out of puberty, she had the strongest pair of lungs in the show. He could probably play something completely different and she’d keep her part solid. She deserved better than a botched job on his end, or on anyone else’s. He had to keep up his part because it was a team effort. Maka’s effort through stage and his, even Tsubaki’s and Black Stars, with lovingly packed lunches and boisterous encouragement. 

He didn’t care about the musical, but he cared about his  _ friends,  _ and  _ damit, there he went again, making things all soft and feeling.  _ But Patty grinned at him like he was part of her evil witches scene as she exited the stage, and Liz shot them both passionate thumbs up and a sharp, proud smile. Kid looked before all three of them, for once distracted from his criticism, and nodded in Soul’s direction as he turned back to the keys. If Maka were there she’d be smiling too, clapping silently from the right of the stage and building up butterflies in his chest.

He could deal with that later, if they made it through the week. If he made it through the  _ day.  _ In the meantime Soul focused on the first song of act 2.  _ Keep your head in the game, Evans.  _ He thought to himself, and he would.

(At least until that night, when he would try to fall asleep after texting with Maka until Midnight. But for now he played his part). 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally in crush area my dudes. I hope I didn’t go too overboard on the teasing, but I really wanted to drive the point home lol. One more chapter to go!


	5. Chapter 5

Opening night came and went without a hitch.

It occured to Soul that maybe it should have felt like a bigger deal. It was his first time performing in years, even if it was in front of people who were paying far more attention to those on stage than to him, but when the night came he felt closer to calm then panic, though  _ calm  _ wasn’t exactly the right word. He played through the pieces with a nervous hum. People were all around him but they weren’t  _ watching  _ him. There was the anxiety of being in a crowded room, of doing a task that mattered, but none of the terror than came with actually performing. It was even easier than rehearsals, if he was being honest. Soul was lost in the sea of shadows and audience, hidden away in darkness while Patty and the other performers shone under the lights.

Patty  _ stole  _ the show, much to her delight. When the curtains closed their friends rushed backstage, arrow headed by Liz,  who was damn near sobbing as she wrapped Patty in her arms, giraffe print fur coat and all. Congratulations were exchanged in their little circle between performers and stage crew, given freely by the audience. And when Blackstar slapped him on the back he felt...at ease. His hands still shook, but the atmosphere around him was like nothing he’d ever experienced. Crowded and busy, almost painfully so, but still  _ comfortable.  _ He didn’t feel like people were judging his every note, or even waiting for him to mess up next time. He just felt like one in a group of friends, relieved and excited and proud. Even with the buzzing all around him, Soul felt like he was where he was supposed to be.

And then there was Maka. She had sat in the front row, her assistance with stage setup complete, next to Tsubaki and Blackstar and Liz. Kid sat in the far back, next to Miss Marie. Maka was hardly half a dozen feet away from him, even with the slight  separation between the pit band and the audience. His back was to her throughout most of the performance, but when he glanced her way she was almost always looking at him, ready to offer a proud smile at every turn. 

She was  _ too good.  _ Maka’s presence made him want to take the lovesongs seriously, far more than the actors performing them ever had. She made him want to do well, better than a high school musical deserved, because even buried in lacrosse and decathlon she had put everything she could into her work on stage, passion and strength and laughter and brightness that shone lighter than the spotlights. She gave her all in everything, and who was he to do any less, when part of that everything was him? That, more than anything, is what soothed his nerves. Maka knew he could do it, believed in and wanted him to even more than he did, and Maka was rarely wrong.

She’d sandwiched herself between him Patty after the performance, kissing Patty on the cheek and leaning into him. She’d congratulated both of them exuberantly, kept her arm around his back even as Tsubaki placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and Patty leapt at Kid. It made his stomach do flips, more than any performance could ever hope to. He was a  _ sap _ , but Maka smiled at him like he was the light, and she held his hand, lightly blushing before the group parted ways, and Soul thought that maybe this was okay.

 

***

 

The second and final performance did not move so smoothly. 

Blackstar and Maka had a lacrosse game late that morning, away at their rival school. Some overlap was expected, at least for setup, but if all went well they were expected back before curtain call. Not that they needed to be there. But Tsubaki had insisted (on Blackstar’s behalf as well) on their duty, and Soul was pretty sure that Kid and Liz were capable of burning down the state of Nevada if their group didn’t attend Patty’s performance. Maka had promised with a proud smile to claim their seats in the first row again, where she could not only admire Patty’s performance and her own setwork, but Soul’s playing as well. Soul had told her she couldn’t see the keys anyway, shielded by the slight angle of his back towards the audience. Maka had brushed him off, joking about standing on Blackstar’s shoulders, or even standing closer to the piano. He’d felt his face heat up at that, at the idea of anyone drawing attention to him during the performance, and Patty had met his eye with a wicked grin. Soul had felt his blush deepen at just how  _ wrong  _ she was about everything, but at least Maka hadn’t seemed to notice.

Soul lingered backstage in the dressing room, checking the time again as the clock ticked intermediately closer to curtain call. He helped Liz where he was needed, holding props and eyeliners as she worked her way through the actors, making sure everything was just so. Kid was ushered around by Liz as well, despite his official rank, pushed forward and past every time he tried to correct her makeup.

Soul, more than anything, eased into the background, part of the hum of nervous and excited actors. His hands flexed as he glanced at the clock again. An hour to go.

Yesterday Maka had been here before the show, helping Kim set up the backdrop and offering encouraging words to the performers. Even Blackstar had been in and out, at least before Kid had kicked him out for good and Tsubaki had ushered him to their seats in the auditorium. 

Maka had planned on showing up early today as well, but she was strangely absent from the dressing room. Soul itched to check his phone, to see if she was on her way, how the game had gone, if she was going to check in to see him, but he didn’t want Kid to rip his hand off. Besides, it wasn’t like she needed to be  _ here specifically.  _ Maka had come to calm their nerves and help Kim, assistances that were a little less necessary on closing night. Maka didn’t owe any more time to the theater than she had already given, and she certainly didn’t owe any time to him. Yet his chest thrummed anyway as he checked the clock again.

Soul groaned to himself. He was  _ not  _ doing this right now. Maka would be in the audience, he knew that for certain, and that was what mattered. She was here for Patty, for the show she’d helped build, for her friend to celebrate his ‘accomplishment’, as she had put it. She wasn’t here to be his personal pacifier. 

Soul took out his phone.

“Soul,  _ please _ ,” Kid was now trailing Patty, gathering stray feathers and looking far closer to tears than anyone in a suit had any right to be. “Don’t go on your phone right now. If you do it someone else will too and that is literally more than I can bear.”

Soul paused, then shoved the phone back into his pocket. It was fine. Again, he didn’t  _ need  _ Maka to be there. He’d done fine yesterday, and you’d drag him through hell before he outwardly admitted to Maka’s encouragement playing any part in that. He was a professional, damnit, even if he was a poor excuse for one, and this was a high school show! No one could tell if he screwed up anyway. No one was watching him. 

“Liz I am begging you,  _ please  _ get off of your phone. Some of the fairies still need makeup.”

Liz, for her part, had slipped her phone out without Soul’s notice, despite being only a few feet away, and was sat in front of one of the said fairies, brush still in had. But she held up her phone with a slight frown. “Tsubaki texted. They’re just leaving the school now. Game was postponed because of rain and then had to go into overtime, so they’re gonna be pretty late. Yikes,” She put her phone down and started dusting blush across the face of the actress in front of her. “Today of all days, huh?”

Patty paused from tormenting Kid with her feather boa and leaned over to her sister. “Did they win.”

Liz smiled, admired her work, and shooed away the girl in front of her to begin another face of stage makeup. “Yeah. Course they did. Our team is a beast.”

Patty cheered, then paused. “Aw, shit.” She snatched up Liz’s phone, skirting out of the way of Kid, who was attempting to layer her costume in a way that didn’t give him an anxiety attack. 

“Patty, please-”

“I gotta text Blackstar, I owe him money.”

Liz risked a glance back at Patty, raising a brow. “Did you bet against our own team?”

“Makes him work harder!”

Kid stopped in front of her, hands held in front of him as he tried to school his expression. The worry was still pretty evident. “Patty if you do not let me fix your costume I am going to commit homicide.”

Patty groaned, tossing the phone aside and spreading her arms like a cross. “ _ Fiine.” _

Kid almost cried in relief, the most stressful part of his job finally cooperating.

Soul, on the other hand, seemed to have absorbed his distress.  _ They’re gonna be pretty late.  _ If they were just leaving now, they probably wouldn’t make it back until most of the way through the first act.

Not that any of them needed to be there. They’d all seen the show, would be there to celebrate when the curtains closed. But the idea of doing this without Maka, the person he’d spitefully dragged into it all, the person who’d stayed and become his friend and listened to the sounds beneath the notes the way no one else could, it didn’t sit well. Things weren’t complete without her. He wasn’t ready without her. 

The clock ticked forward. There was a part of him that desperately demanded that they were going to show up, that they had too. That ten minutes to curtain Blackstar would burst backstage, dragging Maka and Tsubaki with him, and Kid would stage-yell and then they’d laugh and Maka would hug him quickly before they all rushed out to their seats, Maka a mere few feet from the pit band, as close to beside him as he needed.

Ten minutes to curtain Kid overtook the air of calm that he had the night before, placated with the knowledge that things were now perfectly set in stone. He joined Soul in having faded to the background. 

“Are you ready?”

Soul was not ready. He should have been ready. But he felt terrifyingly unprepared, like he’s forgotten his sheet music or like he was having a dream about a test he hadn’t studied for. But he knew his sheet music sat on the piano just outside the stage doors, and the room around him, sweltering with anxious teens, guaranteed him he was not dreaming. “Yeah,” he answered anyway. 

Kid eyed him for a moment, put a flat, pale hand to his shoulder blade. “You’ll do fine, Soul. She’ll be here soon.”

“They,” Soul corrected, voice thick with nerves. “They’ll be here. Not really soon, but, I know.”

“Right.” Kid agreed. His hand slid from Soul’s shoulder blade after a dull tap, and he gestured to the doors to the auditorium. “Well, let’s get out there.”

Soul slunk through the doors and into his seat in front of the upright piano. Kid followed him though, parting ways in the auditorium and taking his own seat in the back near Miss Marie. Liz was in the front row, the three seats beside her claimed with various accessories she’d brought with her. It made Soul want to curl in on himself as he counted down the minutes until the curtain opened. The sight was empty, lacking, an incomplete background. He adjusted his sheet music, trying to compensate for how underprepared he felt.

He didn’t like admitting that Maka had become part of his routine, like counting breaths or double-checking he had his wallet. Her own energy was unrivaled, released in every smile, but she  _ calmed  _ him like nothing else could. He could  _ perform,  _ an idea that used to leave him frozen with panic, but only if she was there. He was schrodinger's cat. He glanced at the empty seats. The lights to the auditorium clicked off.

And then slammed on. Or that’s what he thought, at first, but no, those were the doors, open and illuminated by the hall lights, resounding throughout the hushed auditorium. “Sorry,” Tsubaki stage whispered, and then Blackstar was shooting into his seat, and then Tsubaki, and then Maka. They were out of breath, they seemed to have brought with them all the noise of a close lacrosse match, despite the relative quiet of the auditorium.

Soul’s heart stuttered in his chest, then started up again like an Blackstar’s old truck.  _ There was no way this was working out, right? Life wasn’t a musical.  _ But Maka was smiling at him and waving excitedly with both hands, out of breath and bouncing in her seat like she’d only  just now won the game, and the energy she shot him short-circuited any nerves he had left. There was no room for the doubt he usually felt when things seemed to click into place, only the rightness, as the loudspeakers reminded everyone to  _ Unless of an emergency please use the back doors during the show, and no flash photography, and please enjoy the show. _

Soul’s fingers hit the keys, sure.

 

***

 

Soul felt tired as the curtains opened for bows, but happy. Proud. He was proud of Patty, and of Maka, and of himself. It was an unfamiliar feeling. But he’d pushed his way through the devil’s contract that gotten him into public school, had, in a twisted way, earned his place.

Their friends were on their feet as Patty twirled into an elaborate bow that Kid would have never approved of had he known she was planning it, and the audience cheered. Patty’s smile would seem darling if you didn’t know her, recognized by Soul as a proud and wicked grin at having stolen the show again. He clapped and Maka smiled at him, and things had gone right.  _ Things had gone right.  _

The next few minutes swirled by in euphoria and relief. Final thanks were given (Liz mentioned gratefully and by name), and the auditorium lights clicked on one last time for the crowd to disperse. 

Soul straightened his sheet music and rose from the bench, intending to slip backstage and finally escape the audience.

Maka crashed into him when he reached the doorway instead, with a force that rivaled Blackstar, and held him tightly for a moment before spinning him around, smiling vibrantly. She was still in her lacrosse uniform, stray hair from her ponytail sticking to her face, and she smelled like sweat. Soul had never been so happy to see her. 

“Glad you could make it.” He said. 

Maka’s eyes widened. “ _ Me. Too. _ You should have seen how Blackstar drove.”

The gremlin himself joined them as if summoned, smelling even worse than Maka. “I got us here, didn’t I?”

“You almost killed us,” Tsubaki mentioned, close behind him, looking even more tired than Soul, but with a strong smile nonetheless.

Liz piled into the line as well, shoving at Tsubaki’s back. “Let’s make it through the door, people, I have a sister to shower in carnations.”

Maka laughed before pulling Soul forward, the rest of the group following. Patty was already throwing her costume haphazardly  about the dressing room, much to Kid’s horror.

“Patty, you did so good!” Liz cried, not for the first time, wrapping her sister up again with even more exuberance than the night before, tucking a bouquet of flowers into her hands as Patty laughed, and spinning so they both faced the group.” She glanced up, considering, before lifting up one of her arms in teary invitation. “Oh, get in here guys, we did it! We’re done! We did so good!”

The group was sheparded by Tsubaki into the hug, laughing and congratulating all around, a mirror of the night before but with more relief. Soul wasn’t sure what made his breathing the most difficult, if it was Blackstar’s windpipe-crushing grip of the thickness of the air in the crowded dressing room, or Maka’s arm wrapped securely around his waist. But it wasn’t a bad breathlessness. It wasn’t out of fear or discomfort,- Blackstar’s arm tightened as he shouted, maybe a little discomfort- but out of some kind of ease, the comfort of knowing the people around him would catch him if he were to fall. 

Liz was the one to break the hug, wiping at her mascara and moving things along from one task to the next that made Soul see why she was considered an unofficial event-coordinator. “Okay. Cast Party. You’re all coming, obviously.”

Tsubaki nodded, sharing a fond smile as Blackstar shouted some more. “Obviously! Like I’m gonna miss a chance to wreck Principle Death’s place!”

Soul’s brow creased. “I thought the cast party was as Kid’s?”

“First of all, no, Blackstar, you are not wrecking the place,” Liz started sternly, “Secondly, Soul, yeah. It is.” 

It took him a half a second longer than it should have for Soul to understand. “ _ What?  _ He is  _ not _ . Kid, your dad is the  _ principle? _ ” Suddenly the unnervingly jovial smiles of the man jokingly known as Lord Death made way in his mind for his unique paleness, for the familiar shadows under his eyes that seemed to deep to belong to a human being.

Kid blinked. “He is. Soul, I thought you knew this.”

“We all thought you knew, Numbskull, have you been living in a grave?” Patty asked, arms still wrapped around her sister.

“I...did not. This is so weird. Is he gonna  _ be  _ there?”

Kid moved a hand to rest over his brow. “Yes, Soul, my father knows better than to have a bunch of unsupervised teens in his house.”

Blackstar perked up. “But he’s not gonna be home yet, if I go now I can still break something.” Blackstar raced off in a familiar sweat streak. Within moments Patty had broken off of her sister, face alight with devious excitement.

“I’m driving with Blackstar sis, I’ll see you there!”

“Damnit.” Kid rushed after them, Liz following after quick goodbyes and a grumble about damage control.

Their friends trailed out of the room, though it was still populated by various members of the cast and crew, wiping off makeup and gathering props. But Soul did not fade into the background. Maka’s hand stayed wrapped warm around his. “You coming?” He asked, trying to bury the nerves.  _ It was just a party, Evans, you’re not even the one inviting her- _

“Definitely. Uh,” Maka glanced down at herself. “I might grab a shower first. But I’ll be there.” She met his eyes as if relaying important instructions. “I want to see you there. No sneaking out to play moody music, okay? Not that it’s not nice music.”

Soul laughed only somewhat nervously, the comfort of her presence outweighing any nerves he had over his stupid crush, even now that he had time to think about it. He  _ liked  _ Maka. And she was holding his hand. “Sure thing.”

Maka smiled fondly and gave his hand a quick squeeze. “I’m gonna rush home and get that shower. I’ll see you at Kid’s.”

“I’ll see you, Maka.”

She smiled again, giving him one final wave as she excited the dressing room. It reminded him of the night they met, when she’d put her name into his phone with a smiley face at the end, and excited the room the same way-but he thought for a moment that he caught a faint blush on her face. Soul shook his head, tried to calm his heart. Maybe it was the lights. It was probably the lights. Soul took a deep breath.  _ But maybe it was the start of something new.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was that last line exceedingly cheezy? Yes. But this whole fic is exceedingly cheezy, so I’m keeping it and that’s that!  
> am a coward about writing romance. I swear this was originally going to end with Soul and Maka officially getting together, talking about their feeling and everything, but by the time I got here I was scared it seemed so forced. I think I could have done a better job at developing Maka’s feelings and I didn’t want them getting together just because Soul felt a certain way, at least not without exploring Maka’s feelings a little more (because they were romantic. I tried to hint at it. I just feel like a didn’t hint enough aughgh) Maybe I’ll publish an epilogue in Maka’s pov when I’m a little less busy, and have them actually get together lol.  
> At the very least! I hope you enjoyed my resbang! Thank you so so much for everyone who made it this far, and congrats to everyone else who worked on resbang this year!  
> PS If you didn’t already please make sure to check out nyxique's darling beautiful art [here](http://nyxique.tumblr.com/post/181886644587/ive-officially-completed-my-first-ever-resbang)


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